


Choosing

by alice_time



Series: It Runs in the Family [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar
Genre: Bat Family, Crossover, F/M, Family, Family Reunions, Gen, Mention of abuse, Neal is the son of Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle, Not Canon Compliant, Off-screen, Playing a bit fast and loose with legal matters, Siblings, Trying for some level of accuracy, Twins, altered backstories, altered timeline, for amusement I rearranged a few White Collar episodes in the timeline, fraternal twins, younger neal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice_time/pseuds/alice_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since there aren't enough Batman/White Collar crossover fics out there, I decided to write one. </p><p>Neal and Lucy haven't seen each other in years, not since he went to New York and she went to MIT, but the twins were never far from each others thoughts. When Cyber-crimes joins up with White Collar, Neal gets the shock of his life when he meets Cyber-crime's own secret weapon face to face. But Lucy's reasons for coming to New York aren't so cut and dry as a joint task force investigation.</p><p>Their mother has finally come out of the woodwork and it comes as no surprise that the twins are good at what they do with a mother like Selina Kyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caffrey VS. Smith

There was something different about the office, Neal realized. A person out of place. Standing in the conference room was a stranger. He held himself like FBI and the suit was definitely FBI budget but Neal was almost positive he’d never seen the man before. The guy was younger than Peter, but not by much with light hair and dark eyes. The breadth of his shoulders suggested he was capable in a fight, but it was the way he held himself that confirmed it.

He paused at his desk, setting his hat down on the surface and caught Jones attention with a jerk of his head toward the conference room. “Who’s the suit?”

“That’s Agent Cooper, Cyber Crimes division. Apparently there’s some connection between the Faulkner case and one he’s working.”

“Huh.” Neal sat down at his desk. “Cyber-crimes…Not really my specialty.”

Jones shrugged. “I hear Cooper’s brought along his own version of you. Former hacker, called herself Mona Lisa. She was like his white whale.”

“Mona Lisa?” Neal raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“I heard about that arrest. It was all down to a very blurry photo and a witness description,” Diana added. “Very cautious. Never did face to face meetings. Shockingly moral. Robin hood complex of sorts.” She held up the file. “You should read up.”

“So why is Mona Lisa in on this case?”

Diana shook her head. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’ve heard she’s damn good at undercover work. Did her time, made a deal.”

Neal looked up from the file. “It says here she managed to take 4.2 million dollars from VeriDyne Industries CEO five years ago, donated it all to medical research foundations in Africa.” Caffrey smiled and thumbed further through the file. “There’s no picture? And no name?”

“She’s a private person, I’ve been told,” Jones said.

“It’s too bad she’s gone straight,” Neal said with a smile. “She could always just steal Faulkner’s cash. Teach him a lesson.”

“No vigilante justice,” Peter said.

“Oh, hello Peter, I didn’t see you there.” Neal flashed a smile. “Vigilante? Me? Never.”

“Uh huh. Come on, Agent Cooper wants to talk to both of us.”

Neal frowned. “Why? I mean, why me exactly? I don’t have experience with cyber-crimes.”

“He wants to make sure you and his expert don’t clash.”

“I am a very charming man, Peter. I’m not going to start anything.”

The soft bell of the elevator opening drew Neal’s attention. A tall woman with vibrant purple hair stepped off, heels higher than sanity and dressed more like she was about to hit a club than an office building. She strode through the doors, bag on her shoulder, and paused. “Cooper! I have to change!”

Agent Cooper peered out of the conference room at her. Neal could see a familiar mix of exasperation and fondness on the agent’s face before the man pointed at the short hall that led back to the bathrooms. “Ten minutes, Lola.”

She waved in acknowledgement, sliding out of her heels and heading in the direction he’d pointed. She was still tall, Neal noted.

“I’ll need a pair of hands to unknot these laces,” she called back. “They got tangled on the flight.”

Without a word, Neal jumped out of his seat and strode over. “I’ve got you.”

“Great.”

Neal eyed the laces of her bustier and deftly untangled the knots, loosening it gently. “There you are.”

“Thanks, sugar.” She bounced and hurried off to the bathroom before Neal realized he hadn’t gotten a really good look at her face. Her make-up had been heavy, he was sure of that, but the hair was pretty distracting. Probably intentional, if she was as good under cover as her file implied.

“Neal,” Peter prompted. “Let’s go.”

“Coming.” Neal flashed a smile and headed up to the conference room after his handler..

Agent Cooper gave Neal a sharp look. “Careful of Lola, Mr. Caffrey, she’s not really the kind of girl you want to get into bed with.”

“Her name can’t be Lola—really,” Neal replied.

“It’s a nickname,” Cooper admitted. “She’s a hard person to say no to, you know, like the song?”

_Whatever Lola wants._

“Lola gets.” Neal grinned. “Okay.”

“Do we get Lola’s real name?” Peter asked.

“I usually only give my first name.” The previously purple-haired woman had undergone a dramatic transformation. With the wig gone, her dark hair was braided back and a bit messy from being under the wig cap. She’d taken off most of the make-up, but black eyeliner still defined her large, incredibly blue eyes, even with the glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her club clothes had been traded out for battered jeans, a MIT hoodie, and sneakers.

Neal blinked, taking in the small details of a scar on her chin and the way her feet were placed on the floor.

“Well, I’m Special Agent Peter Burke, we’re glad to have you,” Peter said.

Neal stayed silent for a moment, trying to convince himself he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t. When she turned her gaze on him, eyes widening slightly in surprise, his suspicions were confirmed.

“I am not working with him,” she said. “Absolutely not. You said nothing about—”

“Lucy,” Neal interrupted. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see me? Are you kidding me? I should have known. I mean, it makes sense. Neal _Caffrey_.” She snorted derisively.

“Yeah, and whose name did you pick Lucy? Huh? Because you sure as hell weren’t going to pick his either.”

The agents exchanged looks of mild confusion and concern as the hacker and conman continued their argument in escalated tones.

“You were arrested?” Neal was shouting. “You were supposed to be in college!”

“At least I didn’t go to New York and start forging bonds,” she shouted back.

“Okay, kids,” Peter said. “Why don’t you just calm down and we can talk about this like adults?”

“Stay out of this, Peter,” Neal snapped. “At least I didn’t decide to start hacking into government databases.”

“Allegedly!” Lucy returned.

“Oh my god,” Cooper said. “Do you see it? I think I see it.”

Peter glanced at Cooper and then back at the pair arguing, taking note of the similarities. Neal was maybe an inch taller than Lucy, but those eyes were the same blue, the same sharp cheekbones and lean limbs.

“Oh my god,” Peter echoed. “She’s your sister.”

Neal sighed. “Twin, actually.” He glanced at Peter. “I’m the oldest though.”

“By four minutes!”

“Okay, I think we all need to calm down,” Cooper tried. “We have a case to work and—”

“I am not working with him,” Lucy said. “It’s not happening.” She leaned into Caffrey’s space, prodding him with a finger. Neal grabbed her hand and in a wink--too fast for the agents to notice, Lucy slipped a piece of paper into Neal’s pocket before jerking her other hand free and pulling away. Neal had caught the slip and blinked at his sister, raising his eyebrows a fraction.

She returned the look and let Agent Cooper tow her to the other side of the table.

“I think you’ll find you have little choice on this one, Lola,” Cooper said, not unkindly. “DC put us on this and you know how they feel about you saying no to cases.”

Neal caught the slight clenching of Lucy’s jaw and the narrowing of her eyes, but her real tell was that her hands were shoved into the pockets of her hoodie. She always hid her hands when she was angry about something. Neal was the impulsive one; no doubt about it, but his sister had a quick temper. She pretended she didn’t, but she couldn’t hide it from him.

Neal frowned for a fraction of a second. He’d just have to take a closer look at how things were between his little sister and the FBI. Things were clearly not as amicable as the file he’d thumbed through had intimated.

“Fine.” She gave Neal a sharp look. “Just keep him as far away from me as possible.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Cooper promised. “Now, let’s talk about that case.”

***

Neal paced the balcony of his apartment and checked his watch. Lucy’s note had said she’d be there by eleven; it was five ‘til. She was always a very punctual person. People always said he and Lucy were polar opposites. He was artistic, she was technical. He was impulsive, she was controlled. His temper could run hot but hers was a damn volcano.

But for all the differences, there were a lot of similarities. They were both planners, meticulously so and her hacker handle indicated she was still the art lover he remembered. Funnily though, she’d never even liked the Mona Lisa. She’d always found DaVinci’s paintings overrated, no matter how much he argued with her about it.

At eleven on the dot, he heard the soft clunk of sneakers striking pavement and turned, raising an eyebrow as his sister straightened from her vault over the balcony wall. Lucy flashed a smile.

“Climbing the side of a building is kind of dangerous, Lucy.”

She rolled her eyes and hurried across the balcony, hugging him tight. “I missed you so much, Neal.”

“I missed you too.” He wrapped his arms around her. “So much.” He drew back. “I cannot believe you ended up with a leash at the FBI. I thought you were too smart for that.”

“Someone double-crossed me,” she admitted with a frown. “That was…a few years ago. They didn’t actually have enough to send me to prison but they really wanted me on their team so they blackmailed me.” She smiled grimly. “And I’m stuck.”

Neal frowned. “What do they have on you?”

“I don’t—” She pulled away and shook her head. “I crossed the wrong person and if I don’t play nice they’ll tell him where I am.”

“Just when I was starting to think there were good people in the government,” Neal drawled.

“It’s not the FBI so much as it was the CIA. They’ve never forgiven me for breaking into some of their files.”

“You were twelve.”

She managed to smile. “Yeah. They don’t know that though. I did a good job with Neal Caffrey and Lucy Smith, didn’t I? No one’s ever questioned them.” She swallowed. “But I am here for another reason. I mean, I knew you were here, I saw the papers.”

Neal frowned. “I feel like we’re back in elementary school and you’re about to me the class hamster died.”

“Uh—no.” She took a breath before looking back at him. “Our mother found me.”

Neal blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Our mother. Our actual mother.” She shook her head and pulled a flash drive from her pocket. “I have the DNA results here if you want to see them. Obviously I had only my own data to compare but I’m fairly certain that if she’s my maternal DNA donor she’s yours as well.”

“Does she know you did a DNA test?”

“Probably, I wasn’t that subtle when I asked for a cheek swab.”

“You never are.” Neal sighed. “Come inside, it’s too cold out here.”

“You have anything to drink?” She ducked into the apartment just ahead of him. “Beer?”

“Dear god no. Who corrupted my baby sister with beer?” He gave her a look that was both startled and disapproving.”

“Berlin.” She smiled. “Sorry, brother mine.”

“I have no beer. How about vodka?”

“Deal.” Lucy took a seat at the dining table.

“When were you in Berlin?” Neal asked, sliding her a shot glass and unscrewing the top off the vodka.

“Oh—little over five years ago?”

“You weren’t even legal.”

“They didn’t know that.” She flashed a smile as he poured for her. “And I’m almost positive that you weren’t legal when they let you of jail and you still drink wine like it’s water.”

He shook his head ruefully. “Your work is good baby sister.”

“You are four minutes older than me Neal. Four.”

He flashed a smile. “I know.”

Lucy took the shot. “If it was better, neither one of us would be in this situation—I would have been there to get you out of trouble, not sitting in an interview room making a deal to stay of prison. Neal—I was arrested two days before you were. Did you know that?” Her voice broke. “Someone did this to us.”

“Lucy…” He sighed and poured her another shot. “Are you sure about that?”

“Our mother is.” She took the shot and made a face. “She wants a meeting with both of us. Just to talk.” Lucy fished a card out of her pocket and slid it over. “She made us a reservation.”

Neal furrowed his brow and pulled his laptop forward, plugging in the drive to access the data. “This is—very thorough.” He stared at the genetic chart. “This goes further than the FBI does.”

Lucy shrugged. “You know me.”

“Thorough might as well be your middle name.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “So—will you go with me?” She bit her lip. “Please?”

He reached over and took her hand. “As long as it’s in my radius.”

“Even if it wasn’t,” she smiled conspiratorially, “the Marshals would never know.” She touched her nose with a wink.

Neal raised his eyebrows. “You know, if we ever worked together we’d probably be the most successful criminals ever.”

“I was thinking more like—vigilantes.”

He rolled his eyes. “I guess—as long as I get to wear a good suit and paint I’m happy.” Neal leaned in closer to his sister. “What are you hoping to get out of this family reunion, Lucy?”

She shrugged. “Closure? I mean, it’d be nice to know why our parents gave us up. Nice to know why we ended up in St. Louis. You know. _Answers_.”

“Nothing else?”

“I stopped believing in fairy tale endings a long time ago, Neal. The sudden appearance of our mother isn’t going to change anything.” She sighed. “But I am going to change some things.”

“Like what?”

“The distance.” Lucy smirked. “I’m tired of being alone, Neal. I want to be with my family again. That means you.”

“So, what, you’ll get yourself assigned to New York Cyber-crimes?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

Someone knocked on the door. Neal frowned. “Hide in the closet, I’ll see who it is.”

She nodded, swiping her shot glass and USB, snapping his laptop closed and sliding into the closet without a word.

Neal headed for the door, opening it a crack to find his short, bald friend on the other side. “He Mozzie.”

“Neal, the Suit called me to ask if you had a sister.” Mozzie gave him a pointed look. “Which is ridiculous because I don’t remember you telling me you had a sister.”

Neal sighed. “You want to meet her?”

“Yes.” Mozzie barged past Neal and into the apartment. “I mean, this is sort of one of those things that makes me question our friendship Neal. How could you not tell me you had a sister?”

“Sure, Mozzie, come on in,” Neal muttered, shutting the door and following his friend. “Look, there are lots of reasons for a guy not to tell his friend he has a sister but in this case—”

“In this case,” Lucy said from the now open closet door, “Neal was simply protecting me.”

Mozzie’s eyes widened a touch. “Wow.” He looked at her and then at Neal and then back to her. “You two—twins? I mean, of course, fraternal twins can be highly similar in appearance, as can any siblings, but that is sort of uncanny.”

Lucy smiled. “I know.” She held out her hand. “Lucy. Smith.”

“Ah, a lady of precaution.” Mozzie shook her hand. “Tell me now, has your brother always been the sort to leap first into fires? Or is that a more recent development?”

“He’s always been like that,” Lucy confirmed. “And if you’re really lucky, I’ll still have baby pictures stowed away somewhere.”

“No,” Neal said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

Lucy grinned. “I’m pretty sure I have that one of you dancing with a teddy bear…”

Neal shook his head again, “What have I ever done to you?”

She gave him a sharp look. “Mrs. Brewer’s English class, Neal.”

He paled. “Right. I am really sorry about that.”

“Uh huh.” She checked her watch. “I have to go. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. Don’t forget about the reservations.”

“I won’t.”

She smiled and headed back out onto the balcony and climbed back down the way she’d come up.

“So she likes to climb?” Mozzie remarked. “Are the glasses necessary or for show?”

“I’m not sure,” Neal replied. He retrieved the card from his pocket. “We’ve been a apart for a while now.” Giorgio’s: Table for 3 7:00 PM, Tuesday.

“She’s certainly comely,” Mozzie said.

“Comely?” Neal raised his eyebrows.

“What? I was trying not to offend.”

Neal shook his head. “Uh huh.” This was not how Neal had expected his reunion with his sister to go. He’d never counted on family of any kind finding them after all these years but… Then there was that worry. What if someone _had_ set them both up to work for the FBI? Why would they do that? What did somebody gain from that?

More importantly, did Peter know anything about it?


	2. Steps

Lucy caught a cab a few blocks down from Neal’s, heading back to the hotel the FBI put her up at. It wasn’t the Four Seasons by any stretch, but it wasn’t too bad. She slipped into her room—and found Cooper sitting in the armchair by the window.

“Isn’t it a little late for you, Lola?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Why are you in my room, Cooper?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a twin brother, Lola?” He stood up. “In fact, that’s something that no one knows. It’s not in your files. Of course, prior to your eighteenth birthday—there is no file on you.” He gave her a sharp look. “I want to know if you’re planning something with him.”

“I might punch him in the face a couple times,” she returned. “I’m reformed, Cooper. Remember?”

He walked toward her and gripped her arm. “I remember dragging you into an interrogation room. I remember you telling me you had no one. I remember that you used to carry this little wallet sized photo in your pocket everywhere that I never got a look at.” He shook his head. “I know you better than most, Lola but—honestly—” he looked her in the eyes, “that doesn’t mean a whole lot. If you break the law, if you run…I’ll find you.” He let her arm go, but the memory of his grip remained as he slipped away.

She watched him leave, hands shoved in her pockets as she took slow steadying breaths. After the door closed, she set the bar and growled under her breath, “No, you won’t.”

***  
“So…did you have any late night visitors?” Peter asked, standing over Neal’s desk the next morning, coffee in hand.

“You casing my place again, Peter?” Neal shook his head.

“No. You just look tired.”

Neal shrugged. “I had things on my mind.”

“Like Lucy?”

Neal grimaced.

“Look, you don’t have to talk about it, but if you want to, I’ll be here.” Peter smiled. “Okay?”

“Thanks, Peter.” Neal exhaled. “It’s just—we haven’t seen each other since we left home. She went off to MIT and I guess I thought everything would be fine. I certainly didn’t expect my little sister to become a hacker and end up with the FBI.” He shrugged. “And she hates me, so there’s that.”

“I’m sure you two can make up for lost time.”

“I’m going to try. Dinner. Tuesday. We’ll see how that goes and maybe Lucy can start visiting me.” He smiled wryly. “At least, until I get the anklet off.”

“Maybe having her around will be good for you,” Peter mused. “Family is important.”

“Yes, I can see us having Thanksgiving dinner together,” Neal replied. “Of course, I don’t know that I’d trust her to carve the turkey.”

Lucy and Cooper arrived moments later. Lucy had gone for something a bit more formal than her college student wardrobe of yesterday. A sharp navy dress, flats and pearls. She looked, Neal thought, a bit like a politician’s wife. Her hair was down and the shoulder length curls would have made her look incredibly younger than the date on her driver’s license if it weren’t for the bright red lipstick and dramatic eyeliner.

It was just as much a disguise as the purple wig and bustier, but Neal didn’t think Cooper knew that.

“Ah, Agent Cooper—Lucy, good to see you again. We all set?”

“Of course,” Lucy replied curtly. “Is he ready?” She didn’t even look at Neal, raising her chin slightly.

“Neal is ready,” Peter replied.

“Good.” She huffed and headed off to the conference room

“This should be fun.”

***

While the second case briefing was not a complete disaster, it became obvious to the agents that it would be best if the twins were not in the surveillance van at the same time about two hours later when someone started a small fire.

Neal would swear until his dying day it wasn’t him.

Peter wasn’t amused.

Cooper was probably plotting murder.

At the end of the day, Peter dragged Neal and Lucy into his office for a little heart to heart, promising Cooper he’d make sure Lucy got back to her hotel that evening.

“Okay you two, sibling rivalry I understand, family issues? Sure. But this case is important and I can’t have your squabbling putting it at risk.”

“Yes, Peter,” Neal said with as contrite an expression as he could muster.

“I can play nice,” Lucy replied.

“Good, then you can both come to dinner tonight. I already called Elizabeth, everything’s set.”

“What?” Lucy asked.

“His wife,” Neal explained. “He’s trying to play peacekeeper. It’s what he does.”

“Be quiet, Neal.” Peter looked at his personal troublemaker and then at Lucy. “You two may think I didn’t notice, but after three hours in the van I’m pretty damn sure more than half of your sniping is forced. So we’re going to have dinner with my wife, you’re both going to play nice and tomorrow we’re going to take this guy down. Capiche?”

There was a soft chorus of Yes, Peter, in response.

“Good, get your coats.”

***

Elizabeth smiled brightly as Neal entered the house with a bottle of wine produced from what seemed to Peter like thin air. Satchmo was quick to greet him as well, the Labrador pausing to let Neal scratch his ears before nosing around behind him at the stranger.

“You must be Lucy. Wow. I have say—you two look so much alike,” Elizabeth said warmly. “I’m Elizabeth, welcome to our home.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Lucy replied. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything…”

“That’s all right, I know how Peter gets. He probably sprang this on you last minute, dragged you to the car and off you went.”

“Something like that.” Lucy agreed with a smile.

“Do you want something to drink? There’s wine and beer…”

“Beer, please.”

“Ooh, isn’t that like blasphemy for your family, Neal?” Peter remarked.

“She’s dead to me,” Neal replied.

Lucy gave both men a look that promised untold depths of pain before following Elizabeth into the kitchen.

“You know, she is a bit terrifying,” Peter said.

“Yeah.” Neal nodded. “She’s always had that glare. Used to scare the hell out of the neighbors.”

“I can see why.”

Dinner was well prepared chicken parmesan, salad, bread and tucked away in the kitchen was a chocolate torte for dessert.

“So, Lucy,” Peter started once they were all seated and eating. “How long has it been since you and Neal parted ways?”

“We were eighteen,” she replied. “So…eight years or so?”

“Wow. Well it’s good you get to see each other now at least,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah.”

Lucy glanced at her brother and quirked an eyebrow. He gave a slight shrug. Peter watched the silent exchange with interest.

“You went to MIT I hear,” Peter continued.

“Two years—and then I was arrested.” Lucy shrugged. “I thought about finishing but…I’m pretty busy with the Bureau these days.”

“You’ve been with them for five years?”

“I think so.”

“What were you up to before that?”

“Peter, don’t interrogate our guest,” Elizabeth reprimanded.

“Sorry,” he said.

Lucy shook her head. “It’s fine. I was just—wandering, mostly.”

Again, there was a silent exchange between the siblings.

Peter had always known there was something strange about Neal’s past. It was odd enough the kid didn’t have a history before he turned eighteen.

Peter had chased him for a year before he caught him and in spite of every instinct telling him there was something not right about “Neal Caffrey” every government agency he could ask swore that’s all the kid was. Neal Caffrey, age twenty-six. Three years in prison and then a year at the bureau matched the math of an eight-year gap between the siblings but…there was just something. Something Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on that had always eluded him about Neal and now it was there with Lucy too.

By the time they got to dessert, Peter was fairly pleased with himself. The kids weren’t sniping at each other anymore and Lucy seemed to have relaxed a bit.

Baby steps.

When Neal and Lucy excused themselves for the night, Peter was pleased to see them exchange a quick hug at the sidewalk. Which was partly because they wanted to and partly because Lucy wanted to slip Neal a phone. “If I call, answer.”

Neal nodded. “See you tomorrow, sis.”

“See you.”

***

They weren’t making any particular headway on the case, but that was partially intentional. The twins were more than somewhat responsible for that, they had to make sure that the case would continue until things were settled between them.

Tuesday came and Neal found himself in and out of closet, piling ties on a nearby chair as he tried to find that perfect combination for a situation he’d never expected to be in. Sure, he knew how to dress for restaurant. He knew how to dress for a boardroom, a gallery opening, a late night jaunt—a yacht. But how was one supposed to look going to meet the mother that gave them up?

“You’re being ridiculous,” Lucy remarked, striding in through the balcony doors with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Did you just scale the wall, _again_?” He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously, you could have used the door.”

She shrugged. “Force of habit.”

“Are you wearing… _that_. Giorgio’s has a dress code you know.”

Lucy’s current attire was more gym friendly than restaurant. She rolled her eyes and held out the bag. “I thought I’d change here.” She set the bag on the dining table and marched over to the chair, selected a tie and handed it to him. “This one, brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks. Get changed.”

She rolled her eyes and took her bag into the bathroom.

While Neal was by far the more clothes-horse of the siblings, he knew his sister wasn’t stupid. She always dressed appropriately for the occasion. Didn’t mean she _liked_ to dress up exactly. She would always be more casual Friday.

Still, the tie was a good choice. He put it on and checked his hair while Lucy changed.

Her choice for the evening was simple, a black cocktail dress, black boots and the pearls she’d worn before. She clipped her hair up with a jeweled claw clasp and tossed her bag back on the table. “See? I’m appropriate.”

“You going to go with the natural look or that cat-eye thing you were doing the other day?”

She shrugged. “You know I’m not really a make-up girl if it’s not for a disguise.” She made a face. “I guess I don’t want to hide from her.”

Neal blinked. “That’s…honest of you.”

“I know.” She gave him a look. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

***

Giorgio’s was a smaller fine dining experience, intimate. The sort of place with candles on the tables and white tablecloths. They still chilled their salad forks.

Neal and Lucy managed to arrive first, taking a table in a corner with a good view of the door and kitchen. It was instinctual. Neal putting his sister in the seat closest the exit, that was too. She smiled at him ruefully, but said nothing.

“Your third party will be arriving shortly,” the maître de said softly. “Can we get you drinks?”

“Water,” Lucy said.

Neal nodded.

Better to keep their heads.

“So…what does she look like?” Neal asked.

“Like me a bit.” Lucy tapped her cheek. “I guess. We have her hair. Her eyes are green though.”

“Maybe we have our father’s eyes.”

“You do, actually,” a soft voice interrupted. “And his cheekbones.”

Neal rarely found himself in a position to be surprised, but the woman standing at their table had come up on completely silent feet—in spite of her heels. She wasn’t as tall as either of the twins, even in heels, but her hair was the same, soft brunette curls that brushed past her shoulders and her eyes were, as Lucy said, green. She smiled, and it was obvious where the twins got it from. It was charming but slightly feral. A promise of danger in a pretty package.

Her dress was sleek and expensive, a bold diamond around her neck.

“Is that…” Neal raised his eyebrows. “The Taylor-Burton Diamond?”

The woman smiled again. “Oh this? It’s nothing.” She slipped into the third chair. “I just picked it up.”

Neal took a breath. “Oh my god. You’re Selina Kyle.” He shook his head. “I mean. Wow. I’m sitting down to dinner with a legend.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” She reached out, brushing a bit of hair out of his face. “You look so much like your father.”

Neal was too much the showman to flinch, but he did blink when she touched him. “You’re our mother. I mean. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

She laughed. “I suppose not.” Selina glanced at Lucy. “You didn’t tell him?”

“I wasn’t certain. I don’t give information if I’m not certain.”

Selina smiled. “You like to keep secrets, I know where that comes from.”

Their waiter appeared. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Tell the chef that Selina is here with two guests,” Selina said. “And we’ll need the house red.”

“Of course, madam.” The waiter nodded and slipped off to the kitchen.

“You come here often?” Neal asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I have friends everywhere,” she replied. “Much like you.”

He shrugged.

“You must have a lot of questions.” She took a breath. “I know I would.”

“Well, knowing who you are explains a few things,” Neal admitted. “I guess it would have hard for you to have kids and be who you are.” There was still just a touch of bitterness in that voice.

“Yes, well…it wasn’t just me that would have put you in danger,” Selina said. “I couldn’t let anyone hurt my children and if anyone knew that’s who you were—” She shook her head, mouth tight. “I have enemies. Your _father_ has enemies. I thought you would be safer without us.” Her voice cracked. “I was wrong.”

Neal felt Lucy take his hand under the table.

“I don’t expect anything from either of you,” Selina continued. “That’s not why I’m here. I came because you are in trouble. I came because you need me now. I can’t ignore that.”

“What kind of trouble could we be in now that we aren’t already?” Neal asked. “I mean, there was prison and now my pretty fashion accessory.”

“You were both safe in prison. No one would ever touch one of my children.” Selina’s expression reminded Neal that while the woman’s reputation was generally violence free, that didn’t mean she didn’t have the capability. “But I didn’t put you with the feds. And as for how you ended up in prison…well, that’s another matter.” She shook her head. “Someone’s been pulling strings to keep you both on a leash. I don’t like that. I haven’t managed to track them down yet, but I will.”

“Any more concrete evidence of danger?” Lucy asked. “My network hasn’t turned up anything.”

“Because you aren’t looking in the right places, pet.” Selina smiled as the waiter returned with their wine and they all waited until he was through pouring before continuing their conversation.

“Where should I be looking then?”

“To answer that I need to know if you know who I am.”

“Selina Kyle,” Lucy replied.

Neal laughed. “She means…” He plucked the paper slip with the evening’s specials from the center of the table and began folding. When he finished, he had a little origami cat. “Her other name.” He handed the cat to his sister.

She frowned. “A cat.” She considered her data carefully. “You can’t mean…” she shook her head. “I mean…” She looked back at Selina. “You do.”

“Afraid so, pet.” Selina smiled. “And it is from _her_ connections that this danger is coming from.”

“Well. And here I thought I was off the radar of any…masked vigilantes.”

“Caped crusaders,” Neal quipped. “Technically though, she’s not either of those.”

“I’m more neutral, yes, but I draw lines,” Selina said. “The two of you have spent a long time alone, running from the life I tried to build for your protection. It fell apart and you disappeared. It took me a long time to find you. Your sister is very good at what she does.” The pride in her voice was unmistakable.

“She is that,” Neal agreed.

“I’ve asked some friends to look after you two until the threat can be neutralized, but I know it’s unfair to keep you in the dark. I want you to have all the facts and then you can make a decision.”

“What kind of decision?” Lucy asked.

“What you want.” Selina looked at her daughter. “Where you want to go. Who you want to be.” She retrieved her clutch and pulled out a pair of folded cream documents, handing them over. “You have choices. You have a family—if you want it. Whatever you decide I won’t hold it against you. I just want you both to be safe, and happy.”

Neal frowned, unfolding the paper. It was a birth certificate. Black scrollwork and old-fashioned two sided paper to make forgery more difficult.

“Gotham General Hospital,” Neal said. “Well, now I know where I was born.” He scanned down the rest of the document, noting the attending physician’s name was Romeo, his time of birth typed out clearly as 5:34 AM, the shaky signature of the clerk and then, there at the bottom was Selina Kyle and below that was…

“Holy shit,” Lucy said.

Neal looked at his sister, eyes a bit wide. “Bruce Wayne?”

“Uh, yes,” Selina said. “That’s right.”

Neal looked back at the document, paying closer attention to details. “Neal Thomas Wayne. That’s my name.”

“Lucy Maria Wayne.” Lucy took a deep breath and grabbed her wine glass with determination.

“I had a friend, a long time ago, named Neal,” Selina said. “You’re named for him and your paternal grandfather.” She glanced at Lucy. “Bruce once mentioned he liked the name Lucy, but Maria was my mother’s name.”

“Oh.” Lucy swallowed a rather large gulp of wine. “Wow.”

“Honestly I’m surprised you kept your first names. The Bennett’s were kind enough to keep them, but I wasn’t sure you would.”

Lucy shrugged. “We went by Danny and Ashley Brooks for a while as kids but when we decided to change things…I guess I just wanted something to hold onto that was real.”

Selina reached out for her daughter’s hand, eyes widening a fraction when Lucy let her take it. “I know what you mean.”

“This is—huge.” Neal shook his head. “I mean. I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head. “Does he know about us?”

“I told him a few weeks ago, after I got word that someone was coming for you. Then I made some arrangements to see Lucy and get you two in the same place.”

“A lot of strings were pulled I take it,” Lucy said.

Selina shrugged. “It was worth it.”

“You were only nineteen,” Neal said. “When we were born.”

“Well, it was early days in my career.” Selina smiled. “I was impetuous and I fell into bed with a man I barely knew because I wanted to. These days he and I have a different relationship.”

“I’ve seen the tabloids,” Neal said. “They say you’re his girlfriend.”

She shrugged. “Good a word as any.”

“You know,” Neal continued. “I was in Gotham for a bit before I went to prison. Went there for a Degas. _Masked Dancers_. You know it?”

Selina gave him a look that verged on parental. “Yes. It’s in Wayne Manor.”

Neal flashed a smile. “Yes it is.”

“Is the original _still_ in Wayne Manor?” Selina raised her eyebrows.

“Define original.”

Lucy looked aghast. “You stole _Masked Dancers_ and replaced it with a copy?” she hissed.

“Don’t call it a copy,” Neal replied. “It’s one of my best works.”

Selina nodded. “Very good work. Of course, he’ll probably want the original back at some point.”

Neal shrugged. “I’m sure it’s somewhere.”

“Mm hmm,” Lucy shook her head and went back to drinking, polishing off her glass. “Wonderful.”

“There was something weird about that place,” Neal added. “The dimensions of some of the rooms didn’t add up with the floor plans.” He shook his head. “I didn’t really have time to go hunting for secret passages but I would like to get a look at the place again.”

“That could be arranged,” Selina said. “Oh look, dinner.”

The rest of the evening was spent on general questions as Selina made the effort to get to her children beyond the brief reports she’d been given by her watchers while in turn, Neal and Lucy tried to decide if they wanted to continue this…whatever this was.

“Well then,” Selina said as the last dishes were cleared away. “I will be in town for some time yet. I’d like to do this again, if that’s all right?”

“I…would like that,” Neal said.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lucy nodded.

“Good. Stay alert. I’ll let you know once I’m more certain of who it is that’s come after you. Be safe.” As they rose to leave, Selina stopped them, hugging them both quickly. “I—I do love you both.”

Neal didn’t think she expected an answer. After a moment, Selina smiled and slipped off into the kitchen.

“Well,” Lucy said. “This was not what I expected.”

“You want to go back to my apartment and drink some more?” Neal asked.

“I should get back to my hotel, but thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it is.”


	3. Timing

Neal’s apartment wasn’t empty.

“Peter, what do I owe this visit to?” he asked, trying to ignore that there was a piece of paper pressed against his heart that had more truth in it than he’d ever uttered in his life. Truth—not just his name or his parents or his place of birth—but his age. He’d been lying about that since he left home.

Peter was sitting at the dining room table with an exceptionally stern expression on his face.

Neal swallowed uncertainty and pasted a smile on his face.

“You know Neal, after everything that’s happened this past year I thought we were done playing games with each other.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Peter.” Neal had played games in the past. He’d done some exceptionally impulsive, some would even say stupid, things in his attempt to first find Kate Moreau and then her killer but somewhere along the way Neal had come to tenuous peace with her death.

“You don’t? Then explain to me why you had dinner with a woman who is suspected of theft in over a dozen countries?”

“Were you spying on me, Peter?” Neal grimaced. “And, I know full well she’s never been charged so don’t even think—”

“Cooper called me,” Peter replied. “And I don’t care if she’s never officially been charged, the woman has a file in every government agency in the country.”

“So?” Neal strode over to the table. “You think me and Ms. Kyle are plotting a heist with my sister, is that it?” _I need to call Lucy._

“I want to know what she was doing there.”

Neal ran a hand through his hair and sighed. This wasn’t a conversation he was in anyway prepared to have.

“Neal.” Peter’s voice took on a sharp note of warning.

“I don’t have to tell you everything I do or everyone I meet,” Neal protested. “She’s not an ex-con. She’s not a previous associate. So it’s not a violation of my agreement.”

“The fact that you don’t want to tell me, tells me there’s something fishy going on,” Peter stood, “and if you don’t tell me now and this blows up in your face later, there isn’t anything I can do to help you.”

Neal groaned. “I’m not up to anything, Peter. It was dinner. I don’t plan crimes over dinner.”

“Then what was it?”

Neal clenched his jaw. “Nothing. Just dinner.”

Peter quite obviously did not believe that. “Fine. If you decide to talk, let me know.” Peter strode out of the apartment, the door shutting loud enough to make Neal jump.

“Dammit,” he muttered. He pulled Lucy’s phone out and dialed.

It rang and rang—but she didn’t pick up. Neal frowned and tried again.

And again.

And again.

“Her phone could just be off,” he said. “No reason to think anything’s wrong. I’ll see her in the morning.” He paced around the apartment.

He shook his head. He’d half-decided to try again when the phone rang.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah.” She sounded out of breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” The sound of her heavy breaths continued for a few seconds. “Some asshole took a shot at me and then some guy came out of nowhere and saved me oh, and my hotel is on fire.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Outside my hotel at a safe distance. Cooper is here. I think they’re going to put me in protective custody.”

“Okay.” Neal took a breath to steady himself. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no. But Neal, if someone came after me they might come after you too.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He started checking his locks in any case, tugging on the balcony doors and eyeing the night sky with trepidation. “Don’t worry about me.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he would have missed the flicker of motion on the roof across the street and the flash of light that followed. He dove to the floor as glass erupted around him.

“Neal?” his sister’s voice echoed from the phone. “Neal!”

He grabbed the phone, “I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“Someone just took a shot at me.” Neal crawled forward, away from the doors and into the bedroom. “Long range—roof across the street.” He pulled out his other phone and considered his next call. They already knew someone had taken a shot at his sister and if Cooper was nearby he’d heard at least her side of the call. He couldn’t hide this.

He called Peter.

“Are you still there?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m just calling Peter. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Promise what, Neal?” Peter was on the line.

“Peter,” Neal took a breath. “Someone just took a shot at me.”

“What?” Peter snapped. “Are you okay?”

“At the moment, yes. They were on the roof across the street.”

“Stay put, I’ll be right there.”

“Sure thing, Peter.” Neal put down the phone and sighed. This was not how he expected his evening to end.

***

“At least we’re still together,” Lucy remarked.

“Yeah.” Neal sighed and looked around the windowless room he and his sister were now guests of. Sure it was for their protection, but that didn’t make if feel less like a prison cell. He couldn’t help but notice how Lucy kept chewing on her lip and fiddling with her hair. “It’s okay. We’re safe here.” At least they had a table and chairs. He was pretty sure it was an old interrogation room.

“I don’t like small spaces.” She shook her head.

Neal considered for a moment and then took her hand. He could feel a slight tremor running through it and squeezed. “You’re okay, Lucy. Just breathe.”

“I don’t like being shot at,” she hissed. “I don’t like my family being shot at. And I really don’t like this room. It smells like someone threw up in here.”

“They probably did,” Neal admitted. He took a more assessing look at her. When they were little, Lucy got locked in a closet by accident. It was Neal’s first succesful try at lock-picking. She’d been terrified when she got out. He’d been the one to calm her down for weeks after when she had nightmares.

He considered the antagonism they’d played out for the FBI. She didn’t want Cooper to know they were close but—he wasn’t going to let his sister have a panic attack just to keep the FBI out of the loop. There were lines you just didn’t cross.

“Lucy, I need you to breathe for me,” he repeated. “Lucy?” He pulled his chair closer to her and took both of her hands and began to sing softly, “ _When you’re smiling…_ ”

Lucy’s eyes flickered up to her brother’s face and she managed a faint smile. “I hate that song.”

“I know, sunshine.” He squeezed her hands again. “You going to breathe for me now?”

She nodded and followed his soft directions until her hands stopped shaking. “I feel like a child. I thought I was over this.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s okay to be scared. Hell, I’m scared too.” His smile tightened. “I’m just glad we’re both okay.”

Lucy nodded. “You know how I said someone saved me?”

“Yeah.”

“It was Nightwing.” She made a face. “You know, the masked vigilante.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” Neal raised his eyebrows and exhaled. “Maybe that’s what she meant about friends?”

“Well, according to newspapers she has had run-ins with the Bat Family, as it were,” Lucy said. “I guess she could have called in a few favors.”

“Timing is funny,” Neal said. “You know? We take dinner with Selina and then we both get shot at.”

“Someone was following her.” Lucy rubbed her jaw. “You don’t think they could have taken a shot at her too?”

Neal made a face. “That’s a concern.” He gave her a look. “Did they take _all_ your phones?”

Lucy smiled. “Cooper is always a bit wary about touching me when I’m upset. I broke four of his fingers when he arrested me.”

“That’s my girl.”

She slipped a hand into her shirt and fished a slim clamshell out of her bra. “He didn’t have a female agent on hand this time.”

“Let’s give her a call then.” He accepted the phone and dialed the phone number Selina had provided and then entered the passcode to connect the call.

It rang once. “Neal or Lucy?”

“It’s Neal, but Lucy is here. We were shot at. We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Neal could hear the hitch of breath on the other side. “Where are you right now?”

Neal put it on speakerphone. “FBI. They’ve got us in a room with no windows. You know, for our protection.”

“I don’t think so,” Selina snapped. “You aren’t safe with them to begin with…”

“What about you?” Neal prompted.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t want to pressure you but—our time is clearly running shorter than I expected. If I come in there, everything will come out on the table Neal. _Everything_.”

Neal glanced at Lucy. They’d made close calls before, but this was different. This would change everything.

“I know this is hard,” Selina continued. “Do whatever you think you have to do.”

Neal heard a shout from the hall.

“My boyfriend gets shot at and you won’t let me see him, I call that a problem!”

Sara.

Neal sighed. That relationship wasn’t going to go over all that well if things shook out.

“Lucy?” Neal glanced back at his sister. “Maybe it’s time?”

Lucy tugged on her hair. “I’m tired of being Lucy Smith. How about you?”

“I kind of liked Neal Caffrey but…” He shook his head. “Not enough to risk your life too.”

“All right then,” Selina said. “I’ll be there soon, sit tight.”

“Okay.” Neal shut the phone and handed it back to Lucy. She stuffed it back into her shirt right as the door to their room opened and a slender, poised red-head strode into the room, Peter on her heels.

“Neal, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He took a breath and stood. “Sara Ellis this is Lucy—my sister.”

Sara paused. “You have a sister?”

“It was news to me too,” Peter said. “Really, he’s fine.”

“I am fine.” Neal smiled. “Lucy, Sara is my…”

“Girlfriend,” Sara said. She held out her hand as Lucy stood and strode forward to take it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The circumstances could be better,” Lucy replied.

“That is true.” Sara smiled. “You two look like you could use something to drink.”

“Please,” Neal replied.

“Vodka,” Lucy said.

Peter glanced around the room. “You can have coffee or water.”

Lucy shook her head. “Vodka or nothing, thanks.” Lucy sat back down. “Neal, you might want to brief those two now before she gets here. You know, save some face.”

Neal gave his sister a look that promised trouble.

“What is she talking about?” Peter asked.

Neal exhaled. “Peter, a woman is going to come to the FBI and tell you some things about me and my sister. After which she’s going to pull some strings and find a way to get us out of your custody.”

“Excuse me?” Peter gave him a look. “What are you talking about?”

“You asked me why I had dinner with Selina Kyle. Well—she’s my mother. Our mother.” He gestured at Lucy and then himself.

“Your mother?” Peter repeated with some disbelief. “Your mother? Well I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“We didn’t know she was our mother until last night, Peter,” Neal said. “Lucy and I were raised by the Caffreys until we were three and then something happened and we ended up in foster care with brand new names. We were Ashley and Danny Brooks. Then we left and became who we are. We never knew our real parents.”

“She contacted me, I verified the genetic match.” Lucy exhaled. “Arrangements were made so we could meet. All of us.”

“The case was a smoke screen,” Peter said. “That’s why it’s stalled.”

Lucy nodded. “I’m sure things will clear up.”

“So explain to me then, exactly what kind of strings Ms. Kyle is going to pull?” Peter crossed his arms.

“She has friends in high places.” Lucy shrugged.

“That’s not the whole truth,” Neal said. “She gave us our father’s identity too—our real birth certificates. There’s no reason for her to lie. She doesn’t gain anything and I’m pretty sure he’s the kind of man that verifies things for himself.”

“Who is he?” Sara prompted.

Neal’s smile was strained. “Bruce Wayne.”

Peter blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not joking.” Neal reached into his jacket for the birth certificate he hadn’t had time to remove and handed it to Peter.

“This is real?” Peter glanced over the document.

“As far as I can tell.” Neal sighed. “Look, we _literally_ found out tonight. I haven’t had time to run things and make calls. She was gonna give us time but then someone tried to kill us.”

“Neal, is the date of birth _accurate_ on this?” Peter asked.

“Uh…yeah.” Neal frowned and looked at his sister.

“This makes you twenty-two, Neal.”

“Yes it does.”

“Twenty-two,” Peter repeated.

“Yes.”

“God dammit, Neal. You were seventeen when I arrested you.” He shook his head. “How long have you two _actually_ been out of contact?” Peter glanced at Neal and Lucy.

“Five and a half years—or so,” Lucy said.

“I knew there was something strange about that math. About you two and…” Peter shook his head.

“Well, dating a younger man isn’t the end of the world,” Sara said.

Neal shrugged. “It wasn’t that I wanted to lie to you it was…”

“When we were fifteen we decided to run away,” Lucy said. “We needed cover ID’s. Flawless ones. I…spent a year building them.” She looked up at Peter. “We didn’t have our real birth certificates. We didn’t remember our family. It was easier to build something else.”

“And lie about your age.”

“Age of majority, kept us out of the system.” Neal glanced at his sister. “Lucy couldn’t go back in the system.”

Peter looked at Neal and then Lucy, concern coloring the irritation. “Did something happen to you?”

“Suffice it say foster care was not kind,” Lucy said. “No need to air old grievances.”

“Peter,” Diana jogged into the doorway, “there is a very irate woman in the office. She says she wants to see her children and she won’t take no for an answer.”

Peter nodded. “Put her in conference room four, we’ll be right there.”

Diana raised her eyebrows. “We?”

“You just met Neal’s mother.” Peter glanced at the twins. “Well, let’s go.”

Sara stopped Neal for a moment in the room while the others went ahead. “You know; I don’t know what I think about this.”

Neal swallowed. “If you aren’t comfortable with it, I understand.”

“Neal, I’m twenty-six. It’s not _that_ big of a gap.” She licked her lips. “I’m just going to need some time. Besides you have things to sort out.” She kissed him. “Call me.”

“Of course.” He managed a smile, and hurried to catch up with his sister.

***

Selina wasted no time, checking both her children over the moment they were within arm’s reach.

“You’re not hurt?”

“I saw movement and ducked in time,” Neal replied. “One of your friends saved Lucy.”

“He called right after you did. He’s wasn’t sure who the shooters were working for—not yet in any case.”

“Ms. Kyle,” Peter said, “the FBI will find out who tried to kill your—children.”

“Forgive me if I don’t share your conviction, Agent Burke.” She raised her chin and Peter was suddenly very aware of where Lucy got her killer stare. “My children are in danger. I will do everything in my power to protect them.”

“I understand but there are appropriate channels—”

“I understand that you put a seventeen-year-old boy in super-max,” she said. “I understand that a seventeen-year-old girl was pressured into signing her life away. That document, at the very least, comes into question. In fact, a lot of things come into question. I will apply pressure until I see cracks.”

“Selina, don’t be so threatening, I’m sure Agent Burke can see reason.” A tall man in a very expensive suit strode into the conference room. “Richard Grayson, I’m representing Mr. Wayne’s interests until he arrives.” He flashed a smile.

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “I think you’re taller, Neal.”

“Maybe.”

“You must be Lucy and Neal…wow. Selina, they do look a lot like you. A lot like Bruce too.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’re going to make sure you two are safe.”

“Mr. Grayson, I can assure you that the FBI can handle this,” Peter said.

“We insist.” Agent Cooper stepped into the doorway. “Lucy, there’s a car downstairs waiting to take you to a safe house. Come with me.”

Lucy glanced at Neal and then at Selina before raising her head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

“I don’t care.”

Cooper grimaced and Grayson moved to block his entry to the room. “I think you need to calm down. My sister isn’t going anywhere.”

“Sister?” Cooper spat. “What are you talking about?”

“Lucy and Neal are the children of Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne,” Richard explained slowly. “My siblings. They aren’t going anywhere. By the way, I’m curious, did you threaten to leak Lucy’s location to Victor Lombardo before or after she signed that agreement? Because if she signed under duress… We have a very dedicated legal department.”

Cooper blanched. “I need to call my supervisor.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Cooper practically ran.

Grayson turned back and smiled. “Well, there’s one agent down.”

“You sure it was safe to tell him that?” Selina asked.

Grayson nodded. “Legal is about thirty seconds from springing on him. He won’t have time to pull anything. Now, Agent Burke, Neal and Lucy need to come with me.”

“I can’t just release them into your custody.”

“You don’t have to. You can cut Neal’s tracking anklet and we’ll walk out the front door. Neal Caffrey and Lucy Smith vanish—legal will clean up the loose ends and in a few weeks the exciting news that Mr. Wayne’s lost children have been found will be all over the papers.”

“I can’t do that,” Peter said. “I won’t do that.”

“Peter,” Neal interrupted, “I know I broke the law. A lot of laws actually. I appreciate everything you’ve done but…Neal Caffrey doesn’t exist. Never has. He’s a figment.”

Peter shook his head. “What about Mozzie, Neal? What about El? Sara? You going to give your whole life up?”

“He doesn’t have to,” Selina said. “Once things are settled, there’s no reason you can’t…correspond. But right now we’re in a crisis and I need to protect them. This isn’t just some run of the mill attempted hit, Agent Burke.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Peter. “You can see why we need to do things quickly.”

Peter swallowed. “Yeah. I see.” He took a deep breath and shook his head before looking at Neal. “Come here, kid.”

“Peter?”

Peter pulled out a pocket knife. “This isn’t goodbye, Neal. And I’m still going to be watching you.”

“I expect no less.”

“Good.” Peter cut the strap. “Be good. Stay safe.”

Neal wasn’t sure what it was Selina had shown Peter, but it had definitely spooked him. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“Let’s go,” Selina said.

“Right,” Neal nodded. “Thanks Peter.” Neal tensed for a fraction of a second before hugging the other man tight. “See you soon.”

“I’d better.”

Neal nodded and then hurried out after the others.

And just like that, Neal Caffrey was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to play a bit loose with legal matters--but I'm going to try for some cursory accuracy here. I'm also going with "if you throw enough money at it, it'll go away" so forgive me.
> 
> Also, the end line is total hyperbole, not meant to intimate his actual death.


	4. Protective Custody

“This is a nice car,” Neal remarked. “I guess there are perks to being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son, eh Mr. Grayson?” He glanced at Grayson.

“It’s Dick,” Grayson replied. “Neal, right?”

“That’s what’s on my birth certificate.” He flashed a smile.

“Not all of them,” Lucy remarked. “You have terrible taste in aliases, you know that Neal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nick Halden was brilliant.”

“Steve Tabernacle?” She made a face. “Really? Or what about the ever so brilliant Neal Armstrong?”

“Steve was brilliant, lasted me a whole year—he was running even after the feds got me.”

“And if I had done it you wouldn’t have been caught,” Lucy replied.

“I feel like you’re upset about something and picking a fight.” Neal gave her an appraising look. “Which is fine, if you want to fight we can fight.”

She shook her head. “I’m just—twitchy. I don’t like not knowing what’s coming. I like plans and routine and…”

“It’s all right, Lucy,” Selina said. “Once we’re safe we’ll be able to make those plans you like but right now just breathe and try to stay calm.”

“I want to punch something. Someone.” Lucy’s jaw ticked. “They set fire to my hotel. Who does that? Animals do that.”

“You have strange priorities,” Dick said.

“What did you show Peter that got him to fold like that?” Neal looked Selina. “I know Peter; he wouldn’t just let me go.”

“The hotel caught fire because of a bomb in Lucy’s room. Another bomb was found in your apartment.”

“What? Is June all right?” Neal leaned forward.

“They found it before it went off. Full sweep of the building found no other incendiary devices,” Dick said, glancing at his tablet.

Lucy leaned over. “Is that the FBI’s file?” she asked. “Tidy job, Dick.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I noticed your Agent Cooper filed eight formal actions against you—lots of interesting reasons for them.”

“He irritated me. I’m vindictive.”

“She is,” Neal agreed. “When I was five I accidentally popped an eye off her teddy bear. She cut my hair when I was sleeping.”

“It made me feel better.”

The car stopped. “Oh good, we’re here.”

“Where is here?” Neal asked.

“The airport,” Dick replied. “We’re taking the jet back to Gotham.”

Neal swallowed. “I—I’m not big on planes. Can’t we…drive?”

Lucy took his hand without a word and squeezed.

“The faster we get out of the city the better.” Selina didn’t look unsympathetic though. “It’s going to fine, Neal. We’ve had trusted eyes on the plane the whole time. I promise.”

He took a breath. “I’m going to need some alcohol.”

“We can do that. Come on.” Dick opened the door and slid out, helping Selina out with a hand. He offered it to Lucy, but Neal assumed—given how fast Dick backed off—that Lucy had flashed her evil eye at him.

They car had brought them straight up to the tarmac. Neal glanced up at the jet emblazoned with the Wayne Enterprises logo. He swallowed. Lucy hung back, taking his hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Just a short flight.”

Neal frowned. “You going to hold my hand the whole time?”

“If you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

There was a woman waiting for them on the plane. She was even in height with Selina with bright red hair and blue eyes. She smiled at Dick, who gave her a quick kiss.

“Everything okay here?” he asked.

“We’re good to go.”

“Great.” Dick turned to Lucy and Neal. “This is Barbara Gordon, my fiancé.” He gestured at the twins. “Meet Neal and Lucy Wayne." He kissed her cheek. “I’ll go up front and get us started.”

“Wait, are you flying the plane?” Neal asked.

“I have a pilot’s license,” Dick replied. “Don’t worry, I flew it here.”

“Okay.”

Barbara smiled. “Dick is a very accomplished pilot.”

“I’m going to need something strong to drink,” Neal replied, taking a seat. Lucy slipped into the seat next to him.

“There’s a bar,” Barbara said. “Don’t worry.”

Neal sighed and leaned back into the seat. “I’m going to worry regardless, but the alcohol will help.”

Lucy was sitting at the edge of her seat, legs spread a bit wide. It was a defensive posture, her shoulders turned out toward the rest of the passengers, her back to Neal. Barbara was pretty sure it was instinct, one twin reacting to the other’s distress. She’d seen them holding hands earlier. It was pretty obvious from their posture and the way Lucy kept tugging on her hair, the way Neal had defaulted to a vacant stare that they were nervous.

Anxiety was to be expected.

The seatbelt sign flickered on as Dick started taxing.

Neal groaned.

***

By the time they landed in Gotham, Neal was pretty drunk. Lucy was moderately drunk. Selina and Barbara took it with grace. Neal was a happy drunk and Lucy was…depressed. They probably weren’t going to make the best first impression. Neither cared. Neal was singing softly and Lucy had picked someone’s pocket for their phone and appeared to be in the process of reprogramming it for something.

Dick walked out of the cabin and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, they are drunk.”

Selina shrugged. “You can’t blame them.” She stood up and helped Lucy up out of her seat, gently taking the phone from her. “Come on pet, let’s get you into the car. There’s a soft bed waiting for you. Dick, be a dear and help Neal.” She gave her son an assessing look. “I think he’ll need it.”

“I’m fine…” Neal whined, batting away Dick’s hands. “Really.”

“Uh huh.” Dick shook his head and put his hands under Neal’s arm pits and pulled him up out of the chair. “Let’s go buddy.”

“You’re really strong,” Neal remarked.

“Uh huh.”

“You smell good. Is that Armani?”

Dick smiled. “Yes it is.”

It took some wrangling, but they managed to get Neal and Lucy deplaned and into the waiting limousine with only minor bumps and bruises. The twins huddled up together in the forward facing seat and Selina took the spot next to them. Lucy fell asleep, head pillowed on Neal’s shoulder.

Selina watched as Neal drifted off next before turning to Dick and Barbara.

“We have to be gentle with them,” she whispered. “Lucy will play tough and Neal will smile…he’s a bit too much like me and Lucy, she remind you of anyone?”

Dick smiled. “Yeah, she does. Did you call Bruce?”

“I sent him a message,” Barbara said. “Let him know the kids will probably be going straight to bed tonight. And that we might need help moving them. I’m sure we can manage one of them by ourselves but they’re both pretty tall.”

Selina nodded, moving to pull a lock of hair away from Lucy’s face. “It’s not going to be the last difficulty we have.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Dick said. “But we’ve handled Damian, he’s practically housebroken. I read their files. Neal’s non-violent, but tricky and Lucy…on the surface she’s logical but she has a nasty temper. You don’t even want to know what happened to the last guy she dated.”

“Vindictive?” Barbara asked.

“Little bit.” Dick made a face. “She had him declared legally dead.”

Barbara raised her eyebrows. “Well. That’s creative.”

“Only lasted a couple weeks, her handler—Agent Cooper, he put pressure on her until she fixed it.”

“How?” Selina asked.

“Lock up for two weeks.” Dick frowned. “File had a note about it being particularly effective.” His eyes narrowed. “Her psychological profile suggests she’s claustrophobic. That man is a particular kind of bastard.”

Selina frowned. “And is that bastard going to keep his job, Dick?”

He smiled. “I doubt it.”

Lucy wasn’t the only Wayne who could be vindictive.

***

The twins were still out when the car pulled up to Wayne Manor. There was a man standing outside the doors when the car stopped. He was tall, with broad shoulders and an intimidating posture. It was obvious from his piercing blue eyes, nearly identical to the twin’s, that this was Bruce Wayne. He looked somewhat more disheveled than the billionaire was ever photographed looking.

Selina climbed out of the car from the door furthest from the house and smiled at him. “The twins are out cold.”

He nodded and walked forward to open the other door, taking his first look at the twins. “They look so young.” He swallowed. “Are they okay?”

“Someone tried to kill them, Bruce. Sadly, your children are too familiar with that. Neal was more upset about the flight.”

He nodded. “I’ll get Neal. Dick, could you carry Lucy?”

“Sure thing.”

Bruce leaned down, slipping an arm under Neal’s legs and shoulders, pulling the young man close to his chest and hefting him up with a soft grunt. Dick slipped Lucy out from the other side.

“Where are we putting them?” Dick asked.

“Alfred made up the second guest suite. I thought they’d want to stay close to each other.”

Barbara jogged ahead to the door, but someone else was already opening it. “Alfred,” she smiled, “still awake?”

“Of course, Miss Barbara. Ah, are those the twins?”

“They’ve had a bad—day.” She stepped into the foyer. They spent most of the flight with liquid courage.”

The silver-haired gentleman sighed. “I see. Well, let’s get them into bed.”

“That was the idea, Alfred.” Bruce headed for the stairs. “They’ll probably need something for hangovers when they wake up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Master Bruce.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Neal stirred slightly in Bruce’s arms, eyes flickering open briefly. “Go back to sleep,” Bruce whispered.

The young man huffed and closed his eyes.

“He’s more obedient than his file implied.” Bruce glanced at Selina.

“He’s drunk, wait until he’s completely awake.” She kissed him on the cheek. “He’s a bit too much like me.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Bruce glanced at his on-again-off-again girlfriend. “Let’s get the kids to bed.”

She smiled, eyes softening. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“The good things never are.”

***

Neal woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled away from the light coming in the window. He blinked and assessed his surroundings. He vaguely recognized it. The soft cotton pajama bottoms on the other hand, he did not recognize.

“Good morning, Master Neal. Aspirin?”

Neal glanced over at the man in the doorway and smiled reflexively. “I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“I’m Alfred, Mr. Wayne’s butler.”

“Of course. I’d love some aspirin. Thanks.”

Alfred brought the tray over and set it down on the nightstand. “There’s some toast and orange juice as well.”

“Coffee…” Neal slid closer and popped the aspirin with a sip of water before grabbing the coffee. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Miss Lucy is still asleep. She is in the room next door.” He pointed at the bedroom’s other door. “The suite here has a shared bath and two bedrooms.”

“Ah.”

“The rest of the family is having breakfast downstairs, but we thought you might find that overwhelming.”

“Thanks.” Neal sipped at the coffee. “It might be better if Lucy wakes up to a familiar face. She’s not as…” He considered his next words carefully. “Cheerful. As I am.”

“I’m sure she would appreciate that.”

Neal nodded. “Where are my clothes?”

“I had them pressed but you are rather close in size to Master Bruce when he was younger. We moved some of his things into the closet if you’d prefer.”

“And the pajamas?”

“Master Dick and Master Bruce helped you out of your clothes.”

“Okay.” He stood up and padded over to the door that linked his room with Lucy’s and peered inside. He could see the puff of her hair on the pillow. She was sprawled, a second pillow clutched to her chest. A smile flickered across his face. “She’ll be out for a couple more hours. I’ll take a shower. Thank you, Alfred.”

“You are most welcome. You can reach me on the house phone by dialing three.” Alfred pointed at the phone. “Let me know if you require anything else.”

“I will.” Neal waited until Alfred left and headed into Lucy’s bedroom, sitting down at the edge of her bed. “I know you’re awake, sunshine.”

She sniffed and shifted, opening her eyes. “We’re at Wayne Manor.”

“Yes.”

“They took my last phone, by the way, and the house phone doesn’t dial out.” She wrinkled her nose. “I tried about a dozen old-school tone hack techniques but I don’t have the equipment to try anything else.” She sighed. “I guess it’s wait and see?”

“Think you can do that?”

“I’m not a child, Neal.” She kicked off the covers.

“Nice PJ’s.” She’d ended up in sweats and a tank top that was a bit too big. “Did you wake up long enough to dress yourself?”

“No. I can smell Selina’s perfume though.” She stretched her arms and winced.

Neal frowned and put a hand on her wrist, turning her arm for a better look. “That is a serious bruise.” His frown deepened and pulled her closer. “Bruises,” he corrected.

“I hit the sidewalk.”

“That doesn’t explain the older bruises, Lucy.” His eyes narrowed. “And I didn’t see them when you first walked into the FBI office last week. What happened?”

She glanced away from him. “Let’s just say Agent Cooper and I didn’t get along as well as we appeared to.”

Neal’s jaw clenched tightly. “He hurt you?”

“I hurt him back.” She looked back at him. “Just because he was bigger than me doesn’t mean I couldn't take him.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see any bruises on him. You want some aspirin?”

Lucy nodded.

“We aren’t done talking about Agent Cooper, just so we’re clear.”

“Never thought we were.”

***

Showers and fresh clothes later, Neal and Lucy eyed the door out to the hallway. Lucy had settled on jeans that were a bit too short at the leg, a tank top and sweater. Neal went more casual as well, opting for jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt. He wasn’t really feeling up for a suit. That was armor for Neal Caffrey, he wasn’t so sure about Neal Wayne.

“Are we going to go out there?” Lucy asked. “Or are we going to sit in here all day?”

Neal frowned. “I know it seems ridiculous but—I really wish Peter was here.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Peter’s a friend. A good friend.” Neal blinked. “So is El. And Mozzie.” He shook his head. “Who the hell is trying to kill us, Lucy? Selina thinks it’s connected to her.” He looked at his sister. “I think you and I need to look into it.”

She flashed a smile. “You and me? Sounds like fun. I mean, I don’t necessarily take it personally when someone tries to shoot me but…they tried to kill you too. I take that personally.”

“Thanks sis. Though your personal feelings about people shooting at you worry me.”

She shrugged. “So…where is that Degas?”

“The original?”

“Yes, the original.”

“I think it’s in…Norway.”

“When were you in Norway? I mean, I know for a fact that about sixty percent of the things that the FBI thinks you did you didn’t do. You took credit with the community but…you didn’t have time to do all of it.”

Neal smiled, a proper smile. “Okay, so it’s not in Norway. It’s in Illinois, my secondary stash.”

“You might want to consider returning it if we end up staying long.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Are you two going to hole up in here all day?” Selina asked.

Neal turned to look at the woman. “How’d you get in?”

“Really, Neal?”

He shrugged.

“Would you like something to eat now?” She sauntered closer. “You didn’t touch your toast.” Her gaze turned assessing. “Bruce doesn’t bite. Damian might though.”

“Damian?” Lucy raised her eyebrows.

“Your half-brother, Damian Wayne. He’s thirteen, moody. Tim Drake, your adopted brother is also here and of course you met Dick last night. In the non-relatives in residence we have Barbara and then there’s Stephanie Brown, a friend of Tim’s. It’s a big house though, plenty of room to hide if you want to.” She smiled.

“Security?” Lucy asked.

“Cameras, perimeter alarms—it’s top of the line. I’ve broken in a few times but I wasn’t here for violence.” She glanced at Neal. “How did you get in?”

“There was a party.” He smiled. “I got on the guest list.”

“Good boy.” She took a look at Lucy. “You and I will need to go shopping at some point. You and I are close in size but you’re a bit taller and broader through the shoulder.”

Lucy shrugged and then winced.

“Are you all right?”

“Bruised shoulder.” She sighed. “It’s nothing. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” She stood up and Selina put a hand on her shoulder. “What?”

“Let me see your shoulder.”

Lucy glanced at Neal. “Why?”

Neal returned his sister’s look. “Show her your shoulder, Lucy.”

“Fine.” She slipped off the sweater she’d settled on and then tugged down the tank top when it rode up.

Selina hissed softly and gingerly went over it with her fingers. “That’s a muscular bruise, pet. Though these others seem relatively superficial—and older.”

Lucy shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”

Selina took Lucy’s chin in hand. “You can lie to many people. I’m not one of them.”

“It was Cooper,” Neal said.

Selina frowned. “He hit you?” Her eyes narrowed.

Lucy made a noncommittal sound.

“All right, put your sweater back on and let’s go eat. We’ll talk about it later.”

Lucy looked back at Neal and glowered.

“Sorry, sunshine, but that man needs to pay and Selina’s claws would do a good job.” He took her hand. “Come on, time to meet the family.”

***

Neal couldn’t help noticing that the route Selina took them passed by Masked Dancers. The dining room was on the first floor and overlooked the vast lawn at the front of the house. He carefully refreshed his memory of the layout in his head and noted Lucy tapping her fingers against her thighs as she walked, her own little twitch when she was putting something to memory. He had no doubt she’d have a full blueprint mapped out in her head before the day was up.

The dining room scene was so incredibly domestic, Neal felt a twinge. There was Bruce with a paper at the head of the table, Selina striding forward to sit next to him. It reminded him of Peter and El—except bigger and more expensive.

Bruce put the paper down and smiled. “Good morning. Any lingering effects from last night?”

Neal shook his head. “I’ve always bounced back pretty fast.”

The only other person at the table was a younger man Neal hadn’t been introduced to yet. He was starting to wonder, a bit, if Bruce intentionally adopted children that had his coloring.

“This is Tim,” Bruce said, gesturing at the kid. “Tim, Neal and Lucy.”

Time smiled. “I hear you hacked into the CIA, Lucy.”

She shrugged. “I got bored.”

“I also hear you were behind the JLA breach four years ago.”

“I can confirm nor deny my involvement in that.”

Tim’s smile widened. “Awesome.”

“How do you even know about that?” Lucy hadn’t actually acknowledged Bruce yet, which didn’t overly surprise Neal.

“I have—an interest in computers.”

She gave him a look. “Red Net?”

He smiled.

“We’ll have to talk shop later.”

“I’d love to.”

“Lucy?” Selina called.

The younger woman turned toward the head of the table. “Yes?”

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Coffee.”

“I mean food, Lucy. You had a shock yesterday and you haven’t eaten since dinner last night.” Selina held her daughter’s gaze. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Lucy blinked and then smiled. “Eggs?”

Neal recognized the mask for what it was but didn’t call it out. He couldn’t really blame her. The whole situation was surreal at best. Sitting down to breakfast at Wayne Manor? That was never something he thought he would be doing. Meeting his mother and father? Even less likely.

Once breakfast was settled and eaten, Lucy fiddling with a third cup of coffee and Neal had folded his napkin into a swan, Bruce cleared his throat.

Tim had already headed out so it was just the twins, Bruce and Selina.

“I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to find the person or people that tried to kill you. You’ll be safe here until that happens. After they’re caught—what you do is up to you. I’m not going to force you stay if you don’t want to.” He gave them both the same assessing look. “I know you’re both smart, so I expect you to act like it. Until these people are caught you should stay inside. No one outside the family knows you’re here. We need to make sure it stays that way.”

“How can we be sure they don’t know we’re here if we don’t know who they are?” Lucy asked. “It could be anyone. An enemy of Selina’s—someone who hates you.” She glanced at Neal. “Someone who just wants to hurt Neal or me. We’ve made enemies of our own you know.”

“My enemies are more interested in where my stash is. They wouldn’t shoot me until after they found it. What about yours?” Neal said.

“There’s the Russian,” she replied. “He’s capable.”

“Which Russian?” Neal asked.

“Ivan. Igorovich.”

“What?” Bruce raised his voice a hair.

Lucy glanced at him. “We had dealings. It ended badly.”

Bruce took a deep breath and exhaled. “All right, we’ll add him to the list.” He glanced at Neal. “Anyone you want to add?”

“If Mathew Keller wasn’t in prison…maybe.”

“All right, why don’t you two make a list of any and all possible enemies. We’ll forward it to the people working on the case. Feel free to explore the house. I’d prefer if you stayed out of the third floor and my study. There’s a library and a gym… If you need anything just ask.”

“Thanks,” Neal said.

“Lucy, why don’t you give me your measurements? I’ll have some things picked up for you that fit,” Selina said.

“Sure.” Lucy stood up. “I hate having bare ankles in jeans.”

Neal considered being left alone with Bruce and decided against it. “I should go—”

“You have an appointment with Dr. Thompkins,” Bruce interrupted. “Lucy too, once you’re done, Selina.”

“Of course, Bruce,” Selina said.

“Why do I have to see a doctor?” Neal asked.

“Because the FBI didn’t have you see a doctor.” Bruce stood. “Come on, she’s just through those doors, come on.” He held out an arm and gestured toward the doors.

Neal grimaced, and headed toward the doors, Bruce close at his heels.


	5. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of past abuse. Nothing on the page.

Other than some scrapes and a bruise on his knee, Neal wasn’t injured from his dive to the floor. Although, Dr. Thompkins did find his medical records of interest. The woman was old enough to be Neal’s grandmother, but she made Neal feel more at ease than most doctors.

“You have broken several bones over the years,” she remarked, eyeing the file. “Clavicle, both wrists, four ribs…”

“I like to climb,” Neal said.

“You Wayne boys, always engaging in risky behaviors,” she admonished.

There was a soft knock on the door and Selina entered with Lucy in tow. “I have your next patient, Dr. Thompkins.”

“Well now, aren’t you lovely?” Dr. Thompkins smiled. “You are the spitting image of your mother.”

“Thank you,” Lucy managed a smile. “I am totally fine you know I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“Tell that to the bruises,” Selina said a touch sharply, pushing Lucy ahead of her into the room. “Do you want Neal to stay?”

“Uh…”

Dr. Thompkins put Neal’s file down and picked up Lucy’s. “Let’s see now. Well, and here I thought the boys were bad. Ribs, clavicle, wrist…” She raised her eyebrows. “Spiral fracture to the left hand ulna.” She looked up. “That’s a nasty injury.”

“I was nine. I fell.” Lucy shrugged. “It’s a consequence of climbing tall things.”

Neal blinked.

Thompkins hummed in disapproval. “All right, come over here and let’s take a look at your shoulder.”

“What’s wrong with her shoulder?” Bruce asked. He’d taken up a sort of guard position near the door in case Neal decided to bolt.

“Banged it against a sidewalk when I was pushed out of the way of a bullet,” Lucy said.

“Do you want some more privacy?” Dr. Thompkins asked.

Lucy shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me if they stay.”

Neal recognized the tone and nonchalance as one of Lucy’s many, many ways of pretending invulnerability. He looked at Selina and raised his eyebrows.

Selina gave him a slight nod back. “Bruce and I have something to take care of, Neal, will you stay with Lucy?”

“Of course.” He smiled brightly.

“Thanks, pet.” She took Bruce’s arm and led him out of the room with a sultry smile.

Lucy managed a grateful look.

“You’re not out of the woods yet, sunshine,” Neal said. “The good doctor will tell Bruce about your injuries even if he doesn’t see them.”

She rolled her eyes and stripped off her sweater. Neal turned his back to give her some privacy.

Doctor Thompkins tsked at the bruises. “Well.” She looked Lucy in the eye. “Do you want to tell me the truth about that broken arm now?”

“Hm?”

“The fracture may be listed as being older in your medical records, but the accompanying copy of your x-ray tells a different story. It’s perhaps…two years old?”

Neal raised his eyebrows, making the connection to her earlier lie about the date of the break. It was pretty obvious Agent Cooper had been violent towards his sister more than once. Neal took a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. _I could kill him._

“Someone did that to you. They twisted your arm until broke.” Thompkins voice was gentle. “These older bruises look like they came from a struggle. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I’m quite certain that Mr. Wayne will want to record this for your legal matters.”

Lucy swallowed. “How much do you know about…Neal and I?”

“I know enough and I am very confidential.”

“My handler, Cooper. He decided that I was too independent. He didn’t like how I got results. Or that I had an attitude.” She shrugged. “He got pissed off and broke my arm. He told the director I fell. I couldn’t say anything.”

“And these most recent bruises?”

“The case we were working stalled. He suspected it was intentional. He objected.”

“I see.” Dr. Thompkins smiled gently. “Don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him. I want to see your legs as well.”

Lucy nodded and stripped off her pants.

***

“I feel like I’ve been left out of the loop here,” Bruce said. “Is there something I should know about Lucy?”

Selina had taken him out to the back deck for a bit of sun, or so she said. The ever cautious woman stretched out on the lounge chair she’d claimed and sighed. “It seems Lucy’s handler left things out of her file. Probably because if he’d admitted to them, he would have been arrested.”

“I read the files, Selina. I read the medical histories—what exactly is missing?”

“He hit her.” Selina glanced over at Bruce. “Cooper. He hit our daughter. I don’t think it was the first time.”

Bruce clenched his fists. “He abused her.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I won’t just stop at him losing his job...I wonder how he’d like Siberia.”

Selina smiled. “I’m sure we’ll come up with an appropriate response for his crimes, darling.”

Bruce nodded. “He’ll regret ever laying eyes on my daughter.”

Selina wasn’t usually one to divide up Bruce from his alter ego, but the growl in his voice was purely the dark knight. She shivered. Cooper would never know what hit him.

***

Back in New York, things were not going particularly well for the FBI. The lawyers of Wayne Enterprises had descended like a plague of locusts, slapping non-disclosures, lawsuits and threats of legal action at anyone who even breathed the wrong way. Peter had willingly signed the NDA. He wanted Neal to have a good life and he was pretty sure that the Wayne’s could provide that. More importantly, it had become clear over the last twenty-four hours that _someone_ in the FBI had flipped on Neal and Lucy. Someone had provided the shooter with confidential information. They might have been able to follow Neal back to his apartment, but Lucy’s living arrangements had been protected on a need to know basis.

It was fishy, and Peter didn’t like fishy. He couldn’t help but notice Agent Cooper’s behavior, which was twitchy at best, but with the barrage of legal appointments it was hard to keep track of Cooper.

At the end of the day, all he could do was head home after an _exceptionally_ long day in the office. He hadn’t expected to find El at home—and he _really_ hadn’t expected Mozzie.

“You look beat,” El said as he walked into the kitchen. “What’s going on anyway? Your messages were vague at best.”

Peter sighed. It was one thing keeping Neal’s secret from the whole world and quite another to keep it from his wife.

“I haven’t been able to get a hold of Neal, Suit.” Mozzie raised his eyebrows. “Where is he?”

“Neal…” Peter grimaced, loosening his tie and taking a cup of coffee from El when she pressed it on him. “Neal and Lucy are gone.”

“What?”

“I signed a nondisclosure agreement.” He sighed. “But somehow I don’t think you two are going to accept that.”

“Where are they? Are they okay?” El asked.

Peter held up a hand. “They’re both fine and they…they’ve been put in protective custody. Someone tried to kill them.”

“Is this some kind of government conspiracy? Did Neal steal something? Did Lucy get state secrets and now they want to silence her for good?”

“Not that I know of, Mozzie.” Peter made a face and decided that if Neal were there right then, he’d want Mozzie and El to know what was going on. “Why don’t you sweep the house for bugs?”

“I do that every time I come over. You’re clean. Give me a minute though and I’ll set something up to discourage long range listening devices.”

Peter waited patiently for Mozzie to finish up, closing the curtains and checking for anyone suspicious outside the house.

“All right, Suit, talk.”

“How much do you know about Neal’s past?”

“I didn’t know about his sister. He didn’t like to talk about his childhood. From what I know he got to New York at eighteen and I met him two years later playing Find the Lady.”

Peter licked his lips. “His birth name is Neal Thomas Wayne, he and his twin sister, Lucy Maria Wayne were born to Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne about twenty-two years ago. They were put into hiding for some reason.”

“He’s twenty-two?” Elizabeth said.

“He’s Bruce Wayne’s son?” Mozzie said.

“Yes, and yes.” Peter took a breath. “Last night, after the attempts on Neal and Lucy’s lives they made a call. They weren’t safe with the FBI anymore.” He shook his head. “There are Wayne Enterprise lawyers all over the office. They’re doing a very good job of locking this down. Officially, Neal Caffrey no longer exists. He never really did.”

“Where are they?” Mozzie asked.

“Gotham, I assume. It’s safer for them if people don’t know where they are right now. We’ll hear something when the danger is out of play.” Peter sat down. “But I don’t know what’s going to happen after that. I don’t think Neal knows.”

“You know,” Mozzie mused, “Neal was once rumored to have stolen a painting from Wayne. A Degas, I think.”

“That should go over well when Mr. Wayne finds out,” Elizabeth said. “Wow. I can’t believe it. I mean—When did Neal find out?”

“A couple hours before he told me. He was surprised. They both were.” Peter shook his head. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that I sent a seventeen-year-old to supermax. I always thought he was young but…he was just a kid.”

Elizabeth took his hand and squeezed gently. “How did he get away with being Neal Caffrey for so long?”

“His sister made their identities. She is—very good at what she does.”

“You think we’ll ever see them again?” Elizabeth asked.

“I hope so, El,” Peter said. “I hope so.”

***

Neal and Lucy found themselves a bit at odds, with a couple hours to kill before lunch.

“There’s a gym,” Lucy said. “I did say I wanted to punch something.”

Neal frowned. “I guess I could go with you.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

They headed up to the suite first for sweats and then located the gym. It wasn’t your typical home set-up, that’s for sure. There was equipment for acrobatic training, sparring mats, weights and treadmills. It was large enough to charge membership.

“Well,” Lucy hummed in approval.

There was already someone there, working a punching bag. Neal assumed the person in question was the yet unmet Damian Wayne, given that he was the first person under the age of twenty they’d encountered and all of five foot-five. His tousled black hair was a bit sweaty and he had the same bright blue eyes as the rest of the Wayne clan.

Damian paused and turned when the twins entered. “You must be Neal and Lucy.”

“Damian,” Lucy said. “Like the Omen?” She gave him an assessing look.

“My mother chose it.”

“Ah.”

“Are you two going to spar?” Damian asked.

“I want to hit something,” Lucy replied. “Neal is convenient.”

Damian smiled.

“Do I have to?” Neal asked.

“Yes.”

“You are injured,” Damian said. “Should you be sparring?”

Lucy glanced at the boy. “I need to vent. Bruises aren’t broken bones.” She strode out onto a mat and gestured to Neal. “Come on big brother.”

Neal sighed and then followed. “Go easy, it’s been a while.”

“That’s not happening.” She laughed.

What followed was a quick, dirty and looked exceptionally painful. Neal found himself on his back, winded.

“You learn self-defense at the FBI?” Damian asked, standing at the edge of the mat.

Lucy nodded. “I went through the field agent standard self-defense courses.”

“Your stance was a little off for that throw.”

“Shoulder twinged,” Lucy admitted. “You okay, Neal?”

“Sure.” He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. “I was being nice.”

“Uh huh.” Lucy beckoned him again. “Prove it.”

The second bout was more professional. Neal often liked to pretend he had little martial knowledge, but that wasn’t actually true. You didn’t last long in the high stakes world of art theft without some way of defending yourself and Neal didn’t like guns.

It ended in a draw.

“Not bad for FBI training,” Damian said. “You’d do better with something more aggressive. Offense over defense.”

Lucy shrugged.

“I’m not sure where you learned to fight,” Damian looked at Neal, “it’s odd.”

“A friend of a friend knew a monk…it’s complicated. And I used to box.”

“Hm.” Damian eyed them both. “I could train you in something more dangerous.”

“I’ll think about it, thanks.” Neal replied.

Lucy shrugged. “After my bruises fade, maybe.”

“I wondered where you two ended up,” Tim stood in the doorway. “I wanted to introduce you to Stephanie.”

“They can meet her at lunch,” Barbara said, stepping next to Tim. “Which will be ready in ten.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Lucy said.

Neal sighed. “Too bad, you’re eating.” He clapped her on her unbruised shoulder. “You look pale.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nanny.”

“Come on kids,” Barbara said. “There are vegetables.”

“Ooh.”

Lucy signaled Neal to hang back a moment as the others headed out into the hall.

“Can you get me a phone, Neal?”

“You can’t lift one yourself?”

“I’m focusing on a computer, Neal.”

“Fair enough. We’re going to need to see the case files and any photos or video of the shootings.”

“I can crack the FBI servers, they’re easy. Wayne Enterprises servers?” She made a face. “They’re funny. I could do it with enough time but…”

“That’s why baited Tim this morning about Red Net. You wanted to know if anyone in the house would notice if you started snooping.”

She smiled. “Never mind that every person in this house is highly intelligent and hiding something.”

“You noticed.”

“Hey,” Barbara popped her head in the doorway. “Coming?”

“Of course.” Neal flashed his brightest smile. “Come on, sunshine.”

The twins weren’t going to be able to leave the case to the professionals, as it were. It just wasn’t in their blood.

Though they didn’t quite know that—yet.

***

After dinner, Neal and Lucy retired to their bedrooms to do a bit more plotting. Neal grinned after he locked the doors and pulled out the phone he’d swiped from the softest target he could find in the house—Alfred.

“Well done.”

“What about a computer?”

“No dice,” Lucy said. “Tim has a laptop, there’s a computer in the study downstairs, another in the upstairs study and two in the library but those have no internet connection and Tim gave me the run around.”

“It’s a smartphone, you can do something with it, right?”

“Yeah, I can get the FBI files at least.”

“Good. You work on that; I’ll get a better look at the manor’s security.”

“Done.”

He tossed her the phone and changed into more stealth appropriate clothes. Lucy caught the phone and started work bypassing the OS security measures.

“How long do you think we have?”

“An hour? Maybe.”

“Got it.” Neal smiled. “This should be fun.”

***

Some things had changed since Neal was in Wayne Manor. Of course, the last time he was there he didn’t scale the walls but…this was different. He wanted to know where every camera, sensor and light was located. He started by climbing to the roof and walking the perimeter and then headed down onto the third floor balcony. He stayed close to the wall and started to climb along the wall to get a better look at a security feature.

Neal froze at the sound of a window opening to his right. He stayed as flat as he could, clinging to the side of the building.

A few seconds later someone called out, “Neal?”

Neal turned toward the window and smiled at the man leaning out the window. “Yes Bruce?”

“Why are you climbing the side of my house?”

“I’m testing your security.”

“Get in the house. Now.” Bruce held out a hand. “Come on.”

Neal grimaced and took the hand, letting Bruce help him inside. “It’s nice out. Little brisk.”

“Neal, what part of ‘stay in the house for your own safety’ is troublesome to you?”

“I stayed _on_ the house,” Neal replied.

“Go to bed.” Bruce paused. “Wait—what is your sister doing?”

“Sleeping?”

“Sir,” Alfred interrupted. “My phone appears to be missing.”

“Isn’t that interesting.” Bruce gave Neal a significant look. “I’m starting to see why your FBI file spanned so many boxes.”

Neal shrugged.

Bruce sighed, resumed his grip on Neal’s arm and headed to the twin’s suite. “It’s almost like you two have a death wish.”

“Not lately,” Neal protested.

Neal had no doubt Lucy would stash the phone if she heard the door open—that didn’t mean Bruce was going to leave without it though. As expected, Lucy didn’t have the phone when they opened the door. She was sitting on a couch in the common area, reading a book.

“Lucy.”

“Bruce. Can I help you.”

“Alfred would like his phone back.”

“Phone?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows.

“Fine.” She pulled it out of the couch and tossed it, Bruce caught it. Neal watched as Bruce thumbed through it, but Lucy wasn’t stupid. She didn’t leave behind clues. Bruce gave her another look and pocketed the phone.

“You do know that calling any of your contacts could lead someone right to you?”

“I didn’t call anyone.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Bruce reiterated. “I can’t do that if you’re working against me. Are you going to be smart or do I need to put GPS tags on you both and block all outgoing calls?”

“We are smart,” Lucy said. “Which is why we want to be working this case. I may not take personally but I do want to know who tried kill me and my brother. I need to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bruce said. “Get some sleep.”

Neal sighed. This could have gone better.

***

“It’s not that bad,” Selina said, watching Bruce pace the length of the bedroom. “They’re just restless. They’re used to being on their own. You know how that is, Bruce.”

“I do. I also know that they’re going to themselves killed.”

“They do tend to land on their feet, darling.” She smiled. “They get that from me.”

“Uh huh. You do realize that our overly intelligent, criminally minded children are more than equipped to find the secret in this house?”

“Neal already knows _my_ secret identity.”

“Why I am not surprised.” Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “Are you sure we can’t just lock them in a room until this is over?”

“Lucy is claustrophobic and there isn’t really a lock that Neal can’t pick.”

“Kids…” He groaned. “He was on the side the building, Selina. Who does that?”

“Everything will be fine.” She sauntered toward him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “They just need time.”

“I just hope we have it.”


	6. Secrets Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of past abuse.
> 
> I went back through the previous chapters and made sure my timeline was correct, fixed some typos and general errors. Nothing major.

“Okay, what did you find?” Neal asked.

“Not a lot, but, what I did is interesting.” She headed to the dresser and pulled out a stack of loose paper. “I had to sketch it all out, but I got most of the pertinent information.” She handed Neal the pages. “There were photos of the bomb they found at June’s and I saw the ballistics report.”

Neal flipped through the drawings. “I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

“I might not be the virtuoso that you are, but being a competent draftsman is always handy.”

“That’s a logo,” Neal said, pointing at the third drawing. “You recognize it?”

She frowned. “If I didn’t know better I would say it’s from Falstaff Industries, but they’ve been defunct for years.” Lucy shook her head. “I mean, I suppose someone could have purchased some old parts…”

“Falstaff?” Neal glanced up at her. “Hm. Wasn’t he a business rival of Wayne Enterprises?”

“Yes, but he’s dead, he died years ago.”

“He was also a billionaire, sunshine. He wouldn’t be the first person to fake his own death.”

“I know... Eaten by great white sharks?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Hey, that was a brilliant way to fake my death,” he argued.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Look at the fifth drawing.”

Neal flipped to the drawing in question. “Ah, a bullet.”

“You’re better with guns, what does that look like to you?”

“This the one they pulled from my place?”

“Yeah.”

Neal eyed the details and scale. “Looks like a .338, long range. They’re professionals but not anything out of the ordinary. I mean, it’s not we’re dealing with poison laced bullets or anything with an actual hallmark.” He shrugged and flipped through the other drawings. “The only real clue is the Falstaff logo.”

Lucy sighed. “Now what?”

“Now? Now we get you on a computer.”

***

“Everyone’s asleep,” Neal said. “Let’s go.”

Lucy nodded, following her brother down the hall on stocking feet. The house was silent. The wide windows letting in moonlight to cast long shadows against the walls. Neal had learned his stealth through trial and error during his misspent youth, and his sister was much the same. When they separated, their skill paths had diverged further, but the core values of stealth, lock-picking and well told lies were their bedrock. Together, they made a very formidable team.

They’d decided on the computer in the downstairs study. For one, it was the furthest from the bedrooms and close to three exits they could use to get back to their room and for another it windowless and had one door so they only had one door to watch. That also meant they had only one way in and out but…the other option was the third floor study or Tim’s laptop and neither of those options were great.

Neal remembered the study particularly, it was one of the rooms he’d miscalculated dimensions on during his first visit to Wayne Manor. So he had two reasons for being in the room after dark. He kept an eye on the door while Lucy took on the security keeping her offline and started calculating the dimensions against the blueprints.

“There’s something weird about this room,” he said softly.

Lucy took a quick look around. “How weird?”

“The dimensions are off.” He glanced at her. “How’s it coming?”

“Wayne makes good security.” She tapped away at the keys. “But…I am better.” She smiled. “I’ve got internet access. Now we just have to get into the rest of those FBI files and see if my contacts can get me information on Falstaff.”

Neal nodded, pacing around the room. “This grandfather clock, does it look right to you?”

“In what way?” She gave it a cursory examination. “It’s a clock.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t here before. There was a bookcase and over there was a bust. They’ve remodeled.”

“Does that change your mental floorplan?”

“Only a little.”

She kept working while he investigated the clock further. It looked old but it wasn’t. Opened the door and started examining the clock face. He cocked his head to the side in confusion, running a finger over some of the engraving. “I recognize this work. Not a clockmaker though—he makes puzzle boxes.” Neal grabbed a few paper clips from a container on the desk and improvised picks after failing to find the key. He popped open the clock face and took a look at the gears. “This is a lock.” He smiled. “It’s a door.”

“Are you telling me you found a secret door in five minutes?”

Neal’s smile widened. “I am good.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Well, then open it. I’ve done everything I can. I had the relevant information sent to—a friend. If I can get my hands on a phone again, I should be able to access everything anytime.”

“Good, come help me with this.”

She nodded, powering everything down after erasing her tracks. “What kind of lock?”

“It’s probably unlocked by a specific time. The gears work like tumblers so if we set it to the correct time,” he closed the clock face, “and pull on the release it will open.”

“Where’s the release?”

“Simple is always better,” Neal said. “It’s probably the pendulum.” He pulled gently, hearing a slight click in response. “Yup, that’s it.”

“Can we play this like a combination lock?”

“Let’s find out.” Neal started winding the minute hand, head pressed to the side to listen for any changes. He went slowly, a minute at a time. At forty-seven, he heard a different kind of click and stopped. “I think it might…” He pulled the hour hand next, winding it just as carefully. The click came at ten. Neal smiled. “That’s it.” He pulled back and pulled on the pendulum. There was a louder click and the wall popped open. Neal gave Lucy a look. “This is exciting.”

She smiled. “I admit, this is exciting.”

Neal gripped the wall and pulled, the wall swinging around to reveal a set of stairs. “You feel like exploring?”

“I’m not ready for bed yet, let’s go.”

***

The stairs headed down into the dark. Neal went first, hand to the wall. When he got three stairs down, lights came on to illuminate the rest of the stairwell. They continued on down until the stairs opened out onto a black expanse but as Neal stepped off, more lights started to come on, illuminating what was obviously a natural cave that had been added to with construction.

“Oh my god,” Neal said.

Lucy paused at her brother’s side, eyes wide. “Holy shit…”

They looked at each other briefly and headed out onto the circular platform the stairs ended on. A large bank of computers and monitors took up one side of the platform while stairs down led down to a wall of white cases and from there was a space of flat concrete. A bridge spanned from the side of the platform opposite the computers, leading to another platform. The sound of rushing water echoed through the cave from somewhere in the dark beyond the platforms.

“Batman.” Neal smiled brightly. “Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

Lucy whistled. “Grayson. Grayson is the right height and build—he’s Nightwing. He was the one who saved me.” She walked toward the computers. “This setup is amazing.”

Neal jogged over to the cases. Two were empty except for sleek silver mannequins but the others held uniforms. “Robin. Robin. Another Robin. Batgirl…I can’t believe it.” He glanced back at Lucy. “Well, I mean can but this…”

“The processing speed is amazing.”

“We are literally standing in the Batcave and all you can look at is the computer?”

“I have my priorities, you have yours.” She flashed him a smile and paused. “Wait…check out that motorcycle.” She joined him at the cases and jogged past toward the motorcycle. “That is a beautiful machine.”

“I didn’t know you liked motorcycles.”

She shrugged. “It’s fast, agile—dangerous.”

“Incredibly.”

“So now what?” she asked. “I mean, we know his big secret and frankly he’s got everything he needs to find these people that are after us.” Lucy chewed on her lip. “Do we let him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should also consider, Master Neal, what Master Bruce will say when he gets home and finds you here.” Alfred coughed significantly.

Neal and Lucy turned toward the butler.

“Alfred,” Neal smiled. “Good to see you.”

“I am somehow unsurprised you found this place so quickly.”

“Well…I like puzzles,” Neal said. “Any idea how he’s going to react? Anger? Surprise? Irritation?”

“Murder?” Lucy tacked on.

Neal frowned at her. “Batman doesn’t kill people.”

“Good to know.”

“I believe you will have a chance to find out,” Alfred replied. “But I recommend you return to your bedrooms. He’ll want to speak with you in the morning.”

“Right. Thanks, Alfred.” Neal took Lucy by the hand. “Is there another way out of here?”

“The elevator is just there,” Alfred pointed. “It stops on the second floor, east hallway. You can get back to your rooms from there. And you will stay in your rooms. No more wandering.”

“Of course. No more wandering,” Lucy agreed.

Neal smiled and they practically fled to the elevator.

Alfred sighed. “Every single time we bring children into this house…” he muttered, shaking his head as he headed back toward the stairs.

***

“I hear you two had an eventful evening,” Selina remarked as the twins came into the dining room for breakfast the next morning. She smiled. “Curiosity killed the cat you know.”

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Lucy finished. “As you would know.”

Selina nodded in acknowledgement.

Bruce was reading the paper again, sipping at a cup of coffee. “Eat breakfast,” he said. “And then you two are coming into my study. We need to have a chat.”

“Sure thing, Bruce.” Neal slunk down in his chair, hiding his face behind a cup of coffee.

The table was more crowded than it had been yesterday. The whole family was in attendance, but the table was large enough to accommodate. Dick was trying very hard to hide a smile. Lucy couldn’t help but notice. She gave him a look.

“Hey Dick,” she said.

“Yes, Lucy?”

“Did you have to shove me into a sidewalk?” She raised her eyebrows. “Couldn’t have just, tapped me on the shoulder and said duck?”

Dick laughed. “I’ll keep it mind.”

“Not a discussion for breakfast, children,” Bruce commented.

“Sure thing, Bruce,” Dick said.

Neal smiled.

“Damian, hurry up, Alfred is going to drive you to school.” Bruce gave his youngest a sharp look.

“Why do I have to go to school today? Family emergencies should trump school,” Damian argued.

“Because I told you to.”

Damian huffed. “Fine.”

After breakfast, Lucy and Neal followed Bruce, Selina, Dick and Barbara into the study.

“So, how did open the door Neal?” Bruce asked.

“I recognized the artisan,” Neal replied. “And I’m a thief. Former thief. I noticed there something off with the room dimensions when compared to the blueprints.”

“Do I want to know why you have seen blueprints of my house?” Bruce asked.

“Uh…no?”

“Okay, we’ll talk about that later. Let’s head down.” Bruce manipulated the clock hands and opened the passage, gesturing for the twins to go first.

“You feel like you’re headed to the principal’s office?” Lucy whispered in Russian.

Neal nodded.

“I do speak Russian, you know,” Bruce deadpanned.

Lucy winced.

Once they reached the platform, Bruce took a seat, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the twins.

Neal and Lucy stood in front of him, no real trace of their unease on display but for Lucy toying with her hair and Neal’s smile. It was always just a touch manic when he was nervous.

“You know, we’re very good at keeping secrets,” Lucy said. “You can ask—well actually you can’t ask them.” She made a face.

Bruce sighed. “I’m aware.” He shook his head. “You managed to find this in less than thirty-six hours.”

“We were busy doing other things or it probably would have been less,” Neal admitted.

“Uh huh. And what did you get while you were on my computer, Lucy?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Lucy sighed. “I contacted a friend. Made copies of the FBI’s files and sent them to a sort of cloud server. Nothing will trace back here.”

“Who’s the friend?” Bruce asked.

“That’s a secret.”

“Not right now it isn’t.”

Lucy sighed. “You probably know them actually…” She made a face. “When I broke into the JLA I got a visit from someone and we kept in touch.”

Bruce rubbed his nose. “Who?”

“Uh—the Flash.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“He’s very computer savvy.”

“I’m aware.” Bruce sighed. “All right, this is how this is going to work. I will talk to your JLA contact about keeping his nose out of this. If he can.”

“And then?” Neal asked.

“Since I can’t seem to keep you out of this, I’ll loop you in—with conditions. You will be supervised to ensure you don’t contact anyone who could be traced back here and compromise your safety. Tim and Barbara will work with Lucy. Dick or I will work with Neal.”

“Sounds fair,” Neal said.

“I’m not done.” Bruce did, however, smile. “The time that you don’t spend investigating will be spent on self-defense lessons.”

“I can defend myself,” Lucy said. “I’ve made sure of that.”

Bruce stood and walked toward her. “I know that, but it’s in your best interest to continue to learn. There’s a difference from staving someone off and taking them down, Lucy. I think you’d prefer to be capable of the latter. Am I right?”

She clenched her jaw. “You know about Cooper.”

“I do.”

She licked her lips. “If I’d hurt him—really hurt him—they would have put me in a cell. I couldn’t risk that.” Lucy shook her head. “So I let him get the drop on me.”

Selina’s mouth opened slightly, eyes softening. “Lucy…”

“Next time I see him, I’ll break bones.”

“And I just want to make sure you’re adequately equipped to do so,” Bruce said gently.

“All right.”

“I’m more of a lover than a fighter,” Neal said. “I mean—” Bruce gave him a look. “—sounds like fun. Sure.”

“Good.” He gave them both the same sharp look. “Let’s get started.

***

Neal groaned. “I feel like I want to die.”

Lucy walked out of the bathroom with a towel over her hair. “Shower is free.” She stretched. “I think Dick was trying to kill you.”

“Yeah.”

Lucy took a seat on the couch next to him. “You miss the FBI, don’t you?”

“Little bit.” He pushed himself off the couch with another groan. “I’m going to shower now. Maybe after lunch we can actually look at the case.”

Lucy nodded.

Neal grabbed a towel and a change of clothes, but paused at the bathroom door. “Lucy?”

“Yes Neal?”

“Did you get bored with your hair, Lucy?”

“It’s to handle this way.” She scrubbed the towel through her hair. She’d shorn off several inches, resulting in damp curls that only just brushed her jawline. “I used to keep it short all the time, remember?”

“Yeah, when we were younger and could pass as each other.” He smiled for a moment before sobering. “Lucy?”

“Yeah, Neal?”

“Was I…did I wake you up last night?” He licked his lips. “I just—sort of remember you in my room.”

She swallowed. “You were talking in your sleep. You shouted once.” She looked over at him. “You’re having nightmares about Kate, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes.” He shook his head. “I should get that shower before lunch.”

“Sure.” She watched the bathroom door close and sighed. “I’m sure Bruce really appreciates dealing with two more broken birds.” Lucy stood up and headed into her bedroom to change. There was a dearth of shopping bags and boxes stacked along the long dresser. Selina had gone out the day previous and bought things to size for her daughter. On the one hand, Lucy did appreciate the gesture, but on the other, she wasn’t so keen on her mother’s taste. Or rather, on the lack of casual wear present that wasn’t designer.

She pulled on a long sleeve top and skirt before padding out into the hallway, nearly running into Barbara.

“Lunch is almost ready,” Barbara said. “You cut your hair.”

Lucy touched it a bit self-consciously. “Yeah, well, it’s easier to deal with.”

“Where’s Neal?”

“In the shower, he’ll be right out I’m sure.”

“You know; you are pretty good. At fighting, I mean. Must be in the genes.”

“Could be.”

“So did you really meet the Flash?”

“Not officially,” Lucy said. “It was all very off-book. The JLA just wanted to make sure I wasn’t some super-villain. I guess I must have passed muster.” She glanced at Barbara. "I get the feeling Bruce isn't really a wholehearted participant with them."  

“Bruce isn’t really big on cooperation,” Barbara admitted. “He’s sort of a lone wolf.”

“A lone wolf with a flock,” Lucy said.

Barbara laughed. “Yeah. He sort of collects overly intelligent troublemakers. You two fit right in. And I mean that, you have a home here if you want it.” She put a hand on Lucy’s arm. “He’s not just putting up with you, okay? He wants you here.”

Lucy managed a smile. “Thanks, Barbara.”

“And you can call me Babs.” She put an arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll show you the secret passage to the kitchen.”

Lucy smiled.

***

_Later, in the Batcave._

“Neal and Lucy made the Falstaff connection,” Bruce said, glancing at Selina. “I’m not sure what to think about that. He’s been dead for eight years, Selina.”

“He wouldn’t be the first to die and come back,” Dick remarked. “But how would he have even found them? The overall manipulation has been ongoing for almost five years. But then the actual attempt wasn’t until Selina met with them.” He shook his head. “Something is off.”

“Two players?” Tim suggested. “Maybe we have one person who put them in the FBI’s hands and another who is trying to kill them.”

“He has a point,” Babs took a seat at the computer station, “they don’t have to be the same person or group.”

“One thing we can be sure of, the people who tried to kill them may have been professionals but they weren’t the League, so we can rule out that,” Damian added.

Bruce nodded. “I think we need to talk to the people who brought Neal and Lucy into the FBI to start with. They could know things that aren’t in the file.”

“Neal would like to see Peter Burke again, I’m sure,” Selina said. “We could be very innocuous about it. Send an invitation to him and his wife?”

“Easy enough. What about Cooper?”

Dick coughed. “I can bring him in. Less an invitation more—kidnapping.”

“Just be careful about it,” Bruce warned.

“Yes, Dad,” Dick replied with a smile. “Tim, you want to come with?”

“Sure.”

“Meanwhile, Barbara, look into Falstaff’s death more closely, see if there’s any irregularities.”

“I can do that.”

“Damian.”

“Yes?”

“It’s a school night—go to bed.”

Damian groaned.

***

_Back in New York_

“Honey?” El shouted, walking into the house with the mail in one hand and a frown on her face.

“Yes dear?” Peter walked out of the kitchen and gave his wife a kiss.

“We have an invitation.” She flashed the thick cream cardstock at him. “It came with plane tickets.”

Peter frowned, taking the invite for a closer look. He raised his eyebrows. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing our friend sooner than we though.” El smiled.

“I guess so.”

_Peter & Elizabeth Burke_

_You are cordially invited to cocktails and pleasant conversation._

~ _Bruce Wayne_


	7. Brass Tacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting to the things... Side note, I'm drawing from my favorite Batman stuff so pretty much the Dini cartoon, Batman Beyond, some of the comics a bit of the films as well as things I liked about the presentation of Arrow and the DC-verse in TV lately. The mansion is based on the blueprints of the comic book version of the house. It's sort of my personal ideal of how I see Batman.

Neal and Lucy had been at Wayne Manor for nearly a week, and there was no sign of a break in the case. There was little to do beyond continuing to investigate.

“What’s the occasion exactly?” Neal asked.

Selina had informed him and Lucy that they needed to dress up a bit, but had provided no other details. She was currently perched on the back of the couch, watching Neal fix his tie. He looked sharp in re-tailored navy Armani suit from Bruce’s wardrobe.

“It’s a surprise.”

Neal raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure how I feel about surprises these days.”

“I know how I feel,” Lucy said, padding out of her bedroom. “I don’t like them.”

Selina smiled. “While I understand the sentiment, kitten, I promise this is a good surprise.”

“Could you zip me up then?” Lucy turned around.

“Of course.” Selina hopped down off the couch and pulled the zipper up. “There you are darling. That color is lovely on you.”

The dress in question was a blue and white stripe that hugged close to her hips with a high boat neck and three-quarter length sleeves. She looked like an heiress, which was Selina’s intention. Her children had appropriately aristocratic features, and she felt the need to showcase them.

“You do look good, sis,” Neal said approvingly. “We could run half-a-dozen high market cons dressed like this together.”

Lucy smiled. “Thanks, Neal.”

“Miss Lucy, Master Neal, the guests have arrived,” Alfred said from the door.

“Wonderful,” Selina said. “Come along children.”

Lucy slipped into her shoes—navy flats—and followed Selina out of the room, Neal close at her heels.

“I wish you would just tell us what’s going on,” Neal said. “I mean, this whole cloak and daggers thing is a bit juvenile.”

They headed downstairs to the parlor.

“You know cats, pet, we love our secrets.”

Neal sighed. “Really, Selina?”

She shrugged, “I can’t help it.”

“Face it Neal, she has the market cornered on cat jokes of all kinds.” Lucy strode forward. “Is there food? I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure there’s food,” Selina replied.

“And people,” Lucy paused in the parlor threshold. She glanced at Neal. “Neal, there are people.”

“How many people?”

“At least two.”

Neal sighed. “What?”

“Come see for yourself.”

He made a face in confusion and joined her at the door. His eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

“Peter?” He headed past his sister. “Elizabeth?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Elizabeth smiled. “You look good.”

“Thanks, Elizabeth.” Neal smiled and let her hug him. “What are guys doing here?”

“Well, I had vacation days,” Peter said. “And I know things about you and your case that aren’t in the files. So I’m here to help.”

“Thanks Peter.”

“No problem, kid.” Peter smiled. “Oh, and the FBI has released the contents of your apartment. We brought some things along. I thought you might miss your hats.”

Neal grinned. “Wow. Thanks.”

“No problem.

Bruce joined the group. “Agent Burke.”

“Mr. Wayne.”

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of Neal.” Bruce smiled. “He’s been here less than a month and I honestly—I am _very_ impressed that you managed.”

“Hey,” Neal protested.

Peter grinned. “It was a lot of work and he a tracking anklet.”

“Gee, thanks Peter.”

Lucy joined her brother, looping her arm around his. “Are they being mean to you?”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Bruce replied. “First night here, he was climbing on the roof.”

“I had to check the security.”

“Sounds like Neal,” Elizabeth said. “Lucy, that is a lovely dress.”

“Thank you Elizabeth, would you like to get something to eat? We can leave the men to prod at Neal.” She smiled.

“That sounds lovely.”

Neal watched his sister leave with Elizabeth with a slightly desperate expression. “Well, there goes my best defense.”

Bruce smiled. “Come on Neal, I want to hear all about how Peter caught you.”

“Ah, he had help. A lot of help,” Neal justified. “I mean, I basically turned myself in.”

“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that Neal.” Peter clapped him the shoulder. “Just keep telling yourself that.”

***

Neal sighed. The conversation between Peter and Bruce had definitely taken a turn for the worst—for him anyway—as Peter began regaling Bruce with some of Neal’s more impetuous decision making.

“He claims he did by base-jumping onto Wall Street,” Peter was saying. “I don’t know if I believe that.” Peter glanced at Neal. “At least I’m hoping it’s not true.”

“Well?” Bruce prompted.

“It’s true.”

“You are so lucky I can’t arrest you.” Peter gave him a look.

“It was a good plan. I didn’t get hurt. You know, everything worked out.”

“Uh huh.” Peter looked over at Bruce. “I can get you a tracking anklet for him if you want.”

“Thank you, Peter.” Bruce sipped at his scotch. “I heard that he has a bad habit of jumping in front of people with guns.”

“That is true.”

Lucy sauntered over. “Oh, come on, guys, Neal is hardly the only one who's faced down men with guns.” She blinked. “Not me, of course. I was thinking of you, Peter.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Really? I believe there was something in your file about an incident with some gangsters in Chicago.”

“Never happened.” She smiled at Neal. “At least I didn’t jump out of helicopter.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Neal shook his head.

“Helicopter?” Peter looked up at her. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

“It was before we separated,” Lucy said, sliding onto the couch next to Neal. “There was a brief time when Neal and I worked…together. I was thinking about that actually.”

“I thought we were _never_ talking about that.” Neal gave her a look. “For reasons.”

“The statute of limitations is up now.”

“What did you two do before you separated?” Peter asked.

“Things,” Neal said.

“Things with helicopters?” Bruce asked.  

“It was a calculated risk.”

“And you were how old?” Peter gave him a look.

“Fifteen?” Lucy guessed.

“How is this making things better?” Neal asked.

“I was just trying to point out that we have taken calculated risks before and survived.” She smiled. “And that you’ve been reckless since you could walk.”

“Thanks.”

“And what exactly was this thing with helicopters?”

“There was only one helicopter.”

“Now I feel better,” Bruce said.

“It was our last job together,” Lucy said. “Boston.”

“Wait a minute,” Peter said. “Boston, seven-ish years ago, the STAR labs theft? The helicopter? That was you?”

“ _Us,_ technically,” Lucy said.

Peter groaned. “Good lord.”

Bruce’s expression was somewhat thunderous. “I remember that too. The helicopter crashed in the river, didn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Neal shrugged. “I plead the fifth.” He coughed. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Sit. Stay.” Peter caught his wrist. “Why did you pull that job? Who else worked with you?”

“It was five-person team,” Lucy said. “Neal and I were sort of just tagging along. It was my first run in with Victor Lombardo. I don’t think he’s behind the hits but I was thinking about old times and people who knew us. People who knew we weren’t who we said we were. That job—it was a disaster from the start. Victor was the mastermind.”

“Other than the helicopter crash, the job went smoothly,” Neal said.

“You ended up in the hospital,” Lucy said. “That’s when I decided it was too dangerous to stay together.”

“You told me you were in foster care at the time,” Peter said.

“We were—technically.” Neal chewed on his lip. “We were runaways. From St. Louis.”

“The job was supposed to help pay for our new lives.” She shook her head. “We’ve looked at our lives as Caffrey and Smith, we’ve looked at Selina’s enemies and yours. We keep digging into those things and I just thought—maybe it has something to do with the job that put us on the map, so to speak.”

“She has a point,” Neal said. “I mean, we had to change everything about ourselves to get clean of that job.” He frowned.

“Falstaff,” Lucy said.

“What about it?” Peter asked. “I saw the logo on the bomb but the corporation doesn’t exist anymore.”

“The warehouse we—stole from—had crates from multiple corporations. STAR Labs has a habit of purchasing the tech remnants from defunct companies. There were crates there with the Falstaff logo,” Neal answered. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” He glanced at his sister.

She shrugged. “Details are important.”

“Who else was on that job?” Peter asked. “You said it was a five-man team.”

“A pilot, he died.” Lucy shook her head. “We never got his name.”

“The other one was—Strange.”

“How strange?” Peter asked.

“No, that’s his name. Strange. I never got a first name.” Neal shrugged. “He was good.”

“Did you say Strange?” Selina asked, leaning against Bruce’s chair.

“Yeah.” Neal nodded.

“Eli Strange. I worked with him a few times.” Selina’s eyes narrowed. “You said you were in the hospital?”

“Yeah.” Neal nodded. “Broke my collarbone and two ribs.”

“Strange checked him in,” Lucy said. “He was the only one who bothered to make sure we were okay.”

Selina frowned. “Strange knew me pretty well, what if he figured out something. Made an educated guess…I was out of commission while I was pregnant. He would have known that, done the math. You two look so much like me.”

“What reason would Strange have to kill them?” Bruce asked.

“He wouldn’t but if someone was after me, wanted to hurt me, they might go after the kids.” She grimaced. “And he could have sold the information to an interested party. I buried your records deep but there are people who could have dug them up.”

“Which puts us back on your enemies and none of them have panned out.” Bruce shook his head. “This doesn’t get us anywhere.”

There was a sense of dejection in the air. If they couldn’t trace back to the person responsible there was little hope of either twin feeling safe again.

“We have too many enemies,” Lucy moaned. “This is ridiculous.” She exhaled sharply. “Maybe we need to play a game.”

Neal glanced at his sister. “What, you mean like fishing?”

“Well, we are appropriate bait if someone is trying to kill us, Neal.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce and Peter said at once.

Neal blinked. “Wow. You two sound alike. Look, we need to find these people. If we can’t track them through our histories—we need to draw them out.”

“Nothing draws people out better than bait.” Lucy smiled. “And the appearance of new heirs to the Wayne family will make _very_ splashy headlines.”

“Who could resist that?” Neal added.

“I won’t put you in more danger,” Selina said.

“We aren’t kids anymore,” Neal said. “We can make our own choices. And, if we do this right, we can control the board.”

“Minimize the risk. Draw out the target. Execute.” Lucy rubbed her nose.

“They have a point, Bruce,” Dick said, entering the circle of conversation. “We don’t have enough clues to find our attempted assassins. It’s time to change the game.”

“And what if changing the game gets one of you killed?” Bruce asked. “I don’t think I can watch another of my kids die.”

Dick grimaced. “We won’t let that happen.” Dick put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’ll be there this time. And Tim. Agent Burke. Selina. We’ll call in reinforcements if we have to.”

“Barbara,” Bruce called.

The woman walked over, Elizabeth at her side. “Yes, Bruce?”

“I need you to call your father—we need to lay a trap and I want Gotham PD on standby when we do.”

Barbara nodded. “Got it.”

It was time to go fishing.

***

That night, Lucy woke to the sound of Neal shouting. She slipped out of bed and hurried to his room. There was a figure leaning over him in the dark. She was a fraction of a second from reacting with violence, when she recognized their profile.

“Shh, it’s all right Neal. Just a nightmare,” Selina whispered gently, rubbing his back in slow circles as she drew him up into her arms. “It’s all right.”

Lucy sighed in relief, bracing a hand on the wall.

Neal buried his head against Selina’s shoulder, half-awake now but unwilling to be let go. Selina brushed the hair from his face. “It’s all right, pet.”

“There was an explosion,” Neal whispered. “I saw Kate in the plane—but then it was Lucy and you…”

“I’m not going anywhere, neither is Lucy.” She pressed a kiss to his hair. “I’m never leaving you again.” She turned slight, holding out a hand to Lucy. “Come here, kitten.”

Lucy took Selina’s hand and slipped onto the bed, pulled into the embrace and snaking an arm around her brother.

“It’s going to be all right. We’re going to be all right.” Selina started to hum softly, a lullaby that seemed vaguely familiar. She stayed there, arms wrapped around her children, until they slipped back to sleep. She stayed, watching over them, until she was sure the nightmare had been chased away.

***

Neal and Lucy were incredibly photogenic, so when the announcement was made the press…well, the analogy blood in the water was fairly apt. So long as one considered that water was full of piranha. Camera carrying piranha.

For their first press conference, Bruce chose Wayne Enterprises as the backdrop. The security was thorough, all of the reporters were vetted and they had both private security and GPD in attendance. Behind the curtains, as it were, Lucy was pacing.

“These heels are too high, I look ridiculous,” she complained. “I’m towering over Neal and this dress is so low I’m going to fall out.”

“That’s why I taped it on, kitten,” Selina smiled. “Don’t fuss.”

“The shoes are a bit high, Selina,” Neal said. “She can’t run in those.”

“She won’t need to run.”

“I might."

Bruce joined them in the room they were waiting in before the press conference. He adjusted his tie. “Try not to argue in front of the press.”

“I make no promises,” Lucy said. “Nor do I promise not to do violence with anyone that gets handsy with me.”

“Fair enough. Neal.”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Keep your sister from killing anyone please.”

“Sure thing.” Neal nodded sharply and headed for Lucy.

Bruce checked his watch. “Five minutes until we walk out.”

“This reminds me of that press conference when you announced Damian…except less insane,” Dick said.

“I have a feeling it will be nearly as scandalous though.” Tim was fiddling with his tablet. “The initial articles are already speculating.”

“We’ll cut them off here, it’s going to be fine.” Dick smiled. “At least your sort of dating their mother.”

“Thanks, Dick."

“Your welcome, Bruce.”

Neal wasn’t projecting his unease, but he definitely felt it. It was a bit like the nerves he got right before a con. Heart beating faster, a sort of leaden lump in his stomach. Sure, his crimes had put him on the map. His picture had been in the papers, on wanted posters and every watch list that there was for theft but—this was different. This was walking out and declaring himself. Wearing a name that belonged to him. He’d never really be able to hide again.

Not from Bruce anyway.

“You okay, Neal?” Peter asked. He was playing the twins’ official wrangler, but was staying out of the press.

“Just a little nervous. This is—this is insane.”

“May I remind you that this was your plan.”

“Yeah, I know Peter. Technically at least half the plan was Lucy’s though.” He gave Peter a wide eyed look. “And I didn’t really think this through all the way.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know me really well.”

“It’s time,” Bruce said.

Neal exhaled sharply and slapped a smile on. “Let’s do this.”

***

The press conference wasn’t a complete disaster, mostly thanks to Wayne Enterprise’s very capable spin doctors and Neal’s charming smile. As expected, the papers had a heyday. The Daily Planet even sent Clark Kent along for their version of the scoop. For some reason, Bruce seemed inordinately irritated by that for some reason. The story was all over the news, the internet—there was nothing that captured the public like pseudo-scandals with the wealthy elite. You didn’t really get more wealthy elite than the Wayne family.

It was even trending on Twitter.

“Well, we have a media storm, step one is complete,” Tim said. “I’m tracking the search data and the program will pay attention to any…unusual activity.”

“What kind of algorithm are you using?” Lucy asked, peering over his shoulder.

Neal was only half-paying attention to what they were doing when Peter caught his attention from the doorway of the game room. He slipped off the couch to join the man.

“What’s up, Peter?”

“I wanted to ask you a question about something, follow me.”

“Okay.” Neal followed Peter down the hall to the honest to goodness gallery and felt a flutter of nerves. This was probably not good.

Peter stopped in front of _Masked Dancers_ and gave his former-felon a look. “So I was looking at this painting and I noticed something sort of odd.”

“It is a fascinating work,” Neal said.”The use of head positions to guide the eye around the image, the sort of ambiguity of the background figures…”

“I was thinking more about that.” Peter pointed at the waist of the dancer in green. “That small, practically imperceivable set of lines.”

Neal glanced at the spot in question and smiled. “I think that’s just a bit of harsher pigment Peter. Some of those pastels could have granules of sharper pigmentation and—”

“See, to me, it looks a lot like the initials N and C.” Peter crossed his arms. “Something you want to tell me?”

“No?”

“Well, then as suggestion, you might—just maybe—want to think about returning the piece you obviously didn’t steal and replace with a forgery.” Peter clapped him on the shoulder. “I mean, it’s kind of in poor taste to steal from your parents.”

Neal sighed. “It’s not as though I _knew_ who he was at the time, Peter.”

“So you did steal it.”

“Of course not.” He blinked. “I’m just going to go...do something.”

“Uh huh.” Peter shook his head, watching Neal run off. “Some things never change.”

***

Step two of the plan was enacted the Friday following the press conference. A party, in honor of the newly discovered Wayne twins, was being held on the estate property. The weather was warm enough to allow the doors to be open and tables were set up in the back garden. It was a more festive affair than the charity dinners Bruce was occasionally convinced to throw, and somewhat better attended as every one of his contacts, peers and business associates wanted to get a look at the twins.

“I think I just saw Oliver Queen,” Lucy remarked, taking a sip from her mostly full glass of champagne. “He’s very—muscular.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be mingling?” Neal asked. At the moment, both of them were sort of half-hidden behind the refreshments table while they eyed the crowd. There was a loose perimeter of Wayne Enterprises security personnel, but if one watched closely it was possible to notice the patrol patterns Dick, Tim and Damian made as they wove through the crowd. Barbara was at it too, though with a bit more subtlety.

“Aren’t you?” Lucy picked up piece of cheese and popped it in her mouth.

“It just a bit odd—answering to my own name at a party like this.”

“You don’t have to get used to it if you don’t want to.” His sister gave him a look. “We can always go back to being anonymous when this is over. If you want.”

“I...I don’t know. Selina and Bruce and everyone have been so…” He shook his head. “It’s not what I expected, sure, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“The money or the people?”

“People are more important.” Neal shrugged. “I guess a part of me _wants_ this. I want a family, Lucy. That’s every orphan’s dream, isn’t it?”

She frowned. “Yeah. And I want it too.” She blinked. “I want to stay. I want to be a part of this family.”

They might complain about the self-defense lessons, or roll their eyes at the concern leveled at them when they told stories about their exploits or chafe at being kept inside for their own safety but...before Neal had Peter, the only person who had really cared about him was Mozzie. Lucy hadn’t really let anyone get close enough to care, because close enough to care was close enough to betray.

But now they had the opportunity for something more, and it was clear to them both that they were standing on the edge of the biggest decision of their lives.  
And that was a just a bit terrifying.

“Are you two all right?” Bruce asked, interrupting their internal considerations.

“Fine.” Neal smiled. “Just bracing ourselves for the onslaught.”

“I was people-watching. Did you see Oliver Queen earlier? He really fills out a suit.”

Bruce blinked, flushing slightly. “I did not. His ward, Roy, he’s close to your age though. I think I saw him.”

“Oh.” Lucy smiled. “I’ll just go see.”

“Be careful.”

She waved dismissively as she sauntered off.

“She looks confident,” Bruce said.

“Well, she’s wearing a red dress that makes her look five years older, of course she’s confident.” Neal grinned. “Lucy is probably thinking about this like an undercover assignment. She’s a good actress you know.”

“You both are.”

Neal shrugged. “Sort of comes with the territory.”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, I should go mingle. I’ll see you later.”

Bruce nodded, watching as Neal headed off toward a crowd of socialites. Neal fit the role like he’d been born to it. The smooth smile, the intelligent conversation. He was _very_ good at ingratiating himself. Lucy had her own particular skills, but she seemed to be finding her stride. Watching them work through the crowd, he couldn’t help a small bit of pride. He’d been shocked to discover Selina had even had the twins, shocked that she’d kept them a secret from him. Though he’d been rather understanding about why. He knew they wouldn’t have been safe from Selina’s enemies but...Still, it would have been nice to get a chance to raise his children.

He never did seem to get the opportunity to be there for his kids in their earliest years. At least he could try to make up for it now by keeping them safe.

And out of the family business, if he could.

***

The party was gone well into evening, all the lights on and the music slowing as things began to wind down to an inevitable close. It was the perfect time for someone to strike.

_One._

The lights went out. In the yard. In the house. Beneath the stone mansion the buzz of the back-up generator echoed but in those brief seconds of darkness fog rolled out over the garden and shouts echoed.

_Two._

“Does anyone have eyes on the twins?” Bruce snapped.

The chorus of  “No.” through his earpiece set his heart racing.

_Three._

“Find them!”

Four seconds later, came the familiar sound of an engine roaring to life. Bruce spun around, trying to orient on the sound. The fog was thick.

The generator came on, the lights flickering back to life.

_Six._

Bruce immediately started taking a count of his children, heart sinking into his stomach when the count came back short not once, not twice, but seven times.

“Does _anyone_ see Neal or Lucy?” Bruce demanded again.

It was Tim who shouted, holding something in his hand as he rushed to Bruce’s side. “I found this. No blood though. I think they were taken, not killed.” Tim handed the object to Bruce.

Bruce looked down at the sleek black dagger. He’d thought he was done with the agents of shadows. “Selina, make sure everyone here gets home safely. Everyone else, I want you downstairs—it seems the League is either orchestrating this, or joining in.”

He heard a chorus of affirmatives from the earpiece and had started to head toward the house when someone called his name. He turned back, eyeing Oliver Queen and his ward.

“Yes?”

“Roy got a look at the fellow that dropped that,” Mr. Queen said, nodding at the dagger. “You want some help?”

Bruce smiled grimly. “This is one time, I won’t say no.”

 


	8. Cleaning House

The first thing Neal noticed was the smell. Some of it was blood. Some of it was damp and musty. His head ached. It was too dark to see anything beyond a hazy glow of light that seemed to come from a crack, perhaps the bottom of a door. He touched the floor—cold stone—and felt around gingerly until he found another plane—the wall. Also cold, slightly damp to the touch.

“Neal?”

“Lucy?”

He felt a hand touch his shoulder. “Oh thank god.” She sighed. “I was afraid we weren’t together.” Her voice cracked.

Neal pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay, Lucy. We’re going to be okay.”

He felt her nod against his shoulder. “Did you see who took us?”

“No. Are you hurt?”

“A bump on the head, you?”

“Some bruises.”

“So if they took us…why? Why didn’t they just kill us there?” Neal shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know. We should get the layout of the cell. Find a weakness.”

“Right. We’ll find a way out.” Neal hugged her close. “And even if we don’t, Peter’s out there—he always finds me. And hell, he’s got the world’s greatest detective on his side too.”

“And Mom,” Lucy said.

He could hear the need in her voice. “Mom?”

“Mom.”

“Okay, and Mom.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s do this.”

***

Bruce had debated for a solid fifteen minutes on what to tell Peter and Elizabeth with little certainty. At the moment, Peter was distracted on a call to the FBI putting resources together for a manhunt. A manhunt, Bruce was well aware, would go nowhere. He had Barbara sitting with Elizabeth but he wasn’t sure how long that would keep her distracted.

“The dagger is pretty standard,” Dick said. “I’ve pulled up the security footage though.”

“Let’s see it.”

“I’ve got it queued up for ten minutes before the lights went down.”

The replay of events allowed them to pinpoint Neal and Lucy’s last known locations.

“There’s Neal,” Tim said, pointing at the screen. “He was talking to that heiress. Not a huge surprise, did you see her jewelry?”

A small smile flickered on Bruce’s lips.

“I see Lucy,” Damian said a moment later. “She is dancing with someone.”

“Go through the video and found out who she was dancing with,” Bruce said. “Roy, are you done with the sketch?”

“Yeah. It’s not great.” He handed the tablet off to Tim.

Tim made a face. “Yeah—drawing is not your strong suit but the details are the more important part.”

“Do we know him?” Bruce asked.

“Not really, but he is a member of the league. It looks like he’s been spotted before, political assassinations in the middle east—normal enough for the league.” Tim shook his head and handed the tablet to Bruce. “I’ll start running facial recognition at the airports and docks—if they left the city, we’ll know.”

“Good.”

“And I know you hate working with the _team,_ but I made a call,” Oliver said.

“To who?” Bruce gave him a look.

“Not him, I know how you feel but I did call someone who can help us with a search.” A smile tugged at the corners of Oliver’s lips. “Besides, I hear he’s a friend of Lucy’s.”

“No.” Bruce shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Hey, we need to find them and he’s very fast.”

“I am very fast.” A tall, lean man stood next to the computer monitors—he hadn’t been there before. He smiled. “Lucy is a friend. Though, we usually just used handles. She went by Artemisia after Mona Lisa got burned.”

“She does love the Baroque period,” Selina said.

“Mr. Allen, if you’re going to be here, do something useful.”

“Can do.” He flashed a smile. “I’ll check docks and airports for your man there.”

“Thanks.”

A blink later, and Mr. Allen was gone.

“How many members of the JLA know who you are?” Dick asked. “I mean; I know Supes knows but…”

“Mr. Allen and Mr. Queen are the only other two. There was thing.”

Oliver snorted. “A thing. Yeah. A thing.”

“I don’t want to know,” Dick said. “I’m going to suit up and check some of the League’s old Gotham hideouts.”

“Take Damian with you.”

“Okay.”

Bruce sighed. “I’m going to make a call. The rest of you, keep working.”

Selina put a hand on his shoulder as he passed by her. “Whatever you do, don’t make any deals with that demon. We can get them back—as a family.”

He nodded. “I won’t let anything happen to our kids, Selina.” He kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

***

“It’s a seven by seven cell,” Neal said. “One door, no loose blocks. Hinges are on the outside.”

“No locking mechanism accessible,’ Lucy finished.

“We’d need explosives to get through that door.”

“Not something I packed.”

“I’ve got picks,” Neal admitted. “But yeah, no explosives.”

“We’re screwed.”

“Then we do this the other way. Play dead and wait for them to come in and get us.”

“And then?”

“We hope we can take them.”

“That’s a terrible plan, Neal.”

“Could be worse.”

She wasn’t actually sure how that could be worse.

***

“I’ve got something!” Tim said. “They didn’t leave the city.” He tapped away at his tablet, sending the information to the main screen. “They’re still here.”

“Is that?” Bruce raised his eyebrows at the map on screen.

“The old Arkham? Yeah. Good place to keep people.”

“Everyone suit up. Call Allen and let him know we have a location. I want this done fast and as bloodless possible. You know Neal doesn’t like to get his suits dirty.” Bruce headed for the case with his uniform. “Let’s go.”

***

Neal heard the echo of footsteps from the hall outside the door and settled onto the floor in what was only a semi-dramatic slump of apparent unconsciousness. The door squeaked as it opened, allowing entry for two figures in dark clothes. Lucy cracked open an eye to get a look. One of the figures approached her while the other went for Neal. She stayed still as the person reached toward her.

Their arm in reach, Lucy grabbed it, fingers digging into muscled flesh while she slammed the hell of her other hand into the person’s chin. There was a solid grunt of pain. She kicked a leg up into their torso, continuing her momentum up and over to roll them onto the floor under her, taking hold of their head and without hesitation, smacking it into the stone.

The light from the hall illuminated the cell enough for her to see Neal, arm wrapped around the second assailant’s neck with determined precision until the lack of blood to their brain sent them into unconsciousness.

“Is he dead?” Neal asked, scrambling to his feet.

“No, but since he’s not waking up…probable brain damage.” Movies weren’t accurate, if you hit someone hard enough on the head that they didn’t recover in fifteen to twenty seconds they were concussed or dead.

Since the guy was still breathing, she was betting on the concussion.

“Well, better than dead. Let’s go.”

“We should search them first.”

Neal nodded and started to pat his guy down, coming up with a set of keys. Lucy found a phone and a knife. They slipped out of the cell, locking it back up behind them.

“Any idea where we are?” Neal asked.

“No, but I’m not getting a signal on the phone so I’m guessing we’re either a few levels underground or the whole building is stone.”

“Then let’s find some stairs.”

***

The old asylum had a gothic appearance. With the regularity of escapes, it had been replaced with a more modern facility and the old one had been left to crumble. The Bat Family was arrayed around it doing their initial scouting before entering the building. Batman was stationed on a rooftop opposite, watching the golden/red flash of…the Flash, as he made his own circuit and then returned to Batman’s side.

“There are guards but they aren’t League. Looks like your typical hired goons.”

Batman grunted. “Interesting.” It was more of a confirmation than anything else. He’d made a call to Talia—which he hated to do—and while she’d admitted to some interference with the children a few years back to “keep them out of harm’s way and criminal activity” she had denied all connection to the attempt on their lives and the kidnapping.

Generally speaking, it was never wise to directly contradict her, but if the men here were just hired goons—that didn’t explain what the League member Roy had spotted was doing there.

Unless he was freelancing, not entirely unheard of, the League was somehow involved. Bruce was, in this instance, inclined to believe the man was freelancing. Talia tended to be more than open about her intentions with Bruce since he’d taken Damian on. It might have been guilt, but he highly doubted it.

“What about the League member we saw at the party?”

“Could be freelancing.” He shrugged. “Let’s go in. I want all my kids home for breakfast.”

There was a chorus of “Moving in” “Got it” and “Heading out” from his earpiece. He pulled his cape close and leapt off the roof, landing with a thud on the ground below.

It was never wise to piss off Batman.

***

“Did you hear something?” Lucy asked, just above a whisper.

“Footsteps?” Neal shook his head.

Thus far, they’d managed to climb four flights and still hadn’t found a window or a door to the outside. As they rounded up to the fifth floor a guard walked onto the landing. Lucy didn’t blink, she pushed Neal behind her and rushed the guard. She slammed an elbow into his stomach and reached up, continuing the momentum to smash his head into the wall.

“Was that strictly necessary?” Neal hissed.

“Pretty sure it was.” Lucy tied the man up with his own belt. “Do we have a signal yet?”

Neal checked the phone. “No.”

They left the landing and started checking the floor.

“We’ve reached ground level,” Neal said, pointing at their first window—it was barred. “Thank god.”

Lucy padded toward the window and peered out. “Looks like your theory about this place being abandoned was right.”

“What do you see?”

She pointed at a heavily dilapidated sign. Arkham Asylum

Neal raised his eyebrows. “Great.” He checked the phone again. “I’ve got a bar.”

“Hurry. There could be more where our friend in the stairwell came from. I don’t think we should stay in one place.”

Neal nodded and dialed to the emergency channel Bruce had drilled into their memory when they’d decided on the whole “bait and trap” plan.

“You’ve got Nightwing,” came the quick answer when the line was picked up.

“It’s Neal.”

“Neal! Great. Are you okay? Is Lucy with you?”

“Yes and yes. We’re on the ground floor, I can see the hospital sign from a barred window.”

There was a quiet hum before Nightwing answered. “Okay, I think I know where you are. Find someplace to lay low and sit tight, we’re coming for you little brother.”

Neal flushed at the moniker. “Okay.” He stuck the phone back in his pocket and glanced at Lucy. “Nightwing wants us to lay low and sit tight.”

“We can try,” Lucy replied. “There are rooms down that hall.” She pointed. “Or, we could try and find the guards base of operations and figure out who is behind all this madness.”

“Yeah, that sounds smart.”

“I don’t like sitting tight.” She shrugged. “Or we could try and get the hell out of here.”

“Don’t be impatient.” He took her hand and started to stalk down the hall. “For once, we should do as we’re told.”

“This would not be the first time, Neal.”

“I think it might.”

“I think you two need to come with me.”

The twins froze and turned to eye the guards now arrayed behind them.

With guns.

Neal swallowed.

“Uh…”

“Boss wants to see you two anyway. Move it.”

***

The goons didn’t bother with restraints, possibly because they knew the kids could slip cuffs before they could walk.

In the former office of the head of the hospital, a man sat behind the dusty old desk. He was perhaps a bit wider than he was tall, and dressed in a garish green coat and gold waistcoat, graying red hair slicked back, mustache twirled. He looked every inch the villain.

“Who the hell are you?” Lucy asked.

“How rude of me, of course. I am Gregorian Falstaff. You know, when my friend there from the League of Assassins told me that Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle had children. Then it was just a matter of shaking some trees and following Miss Kyle, and then waiting.”

“You have something against Bruce Wayne?” Neal asked.

“He put me out of business.”

“You died,” Lucy said. “That put you out of business.”

Neal flinched as the guard nearest him pressed the barrel of a gun to the back of his head. His heart rate ticked up, and a glance at his sister saw the guard on her in the same position. She didn’t look scared necessarily—but definitely angry.

Falstaff grimaced. “I did what I had to do and now—now I can finally get revenge.”

“I don’t think so.”

Lucy turned toward the voice, eyes widening. Neal followed her gaze. There was nothing quite like seeing Batman in person for the first time. The sheer size of him extended by the shadows at his back.

“You won’t stop me this time, Batman,” Falstaff snarled. “Kill them!”

The guards moved in toward Neal and Lucy, but every conman knows it’s best to take advantage of distractions. Neal had already moved, dragging his sister with him to positions behind the guards. When Batman attacked, Lucy did too. Neal was a bit more—cautious. But he did take advantage of a guard’s turned back to attack.

It didn’t take to lay out the goons, they were competent hired muscle but they weren’t Batman.

Nightwing arrived seconds later. “Our League member made the mistake of tangling with the Green Arrow—he’s more than limping. You want to hand him over to the Demon’s daughter?”

“Might as well.” Batman looked back at Falstaff. “Let’s truss up our friend here.” He tapped his ear piece. “Batgirl, call the commissioner. We have a present for him.”

“Got it, Bats,” Batgirl replied. “The Flash is clearing up our bad guys out here. The Robins and I will make another sweep.”

“You might want to pick up the three we took out,” Lucy said.

“Where?” Batman asked.

“Five flights down there are two guys in a cell and there’s a fellow in the stairway. Two of them are probably concussed.” She shrugged.

Neal was pretty sure he caught a smile.

“All right. Let’s get you two out of here.” Nightwing reached out. “There’s a cat that wants to see you.”

Nightwing hustled them out of the asylum and into a waiting vehicle. “Stay here while we mop up, okay?”

Lucy gave him a look.

“Stay.”

The capes wrapped up, leaving small clusters of trussed up goons for the incoming police to take care of and then heading back to the Bat Cave.

***

Selina had just stripped off her goggles and hood when she heard a shout.

“Mom!” Lucy rushed forward, wrapping her arms around the other woman.

Selina’s mouth dropped open for a moment before she smiled. “Did they hurt you, kitten?”

“Not much.” Lucy leaned back. “I’m okay.”

Selina looked at Neal and opened an arm to him. “Come here.”

Neal hesitated for a moment before joining the embrace. “Is it over?” Neal whispered.

“I think so.” Selina pet his hair. “Are you all right pet?”

“Better now.” Raw honesty wasn’t Neal’s particular strength, but it was there in three syllables. “Mom.” And three letters.

After several minutes, Selina pulled away. “My babies…”

Neal didn’t hear Bruce approach, cowl pulled off but still mostly in uniform, but he squeaked when the man pulled him and Lucy into his arms. He was silent for a long moment. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

Lucy hadn’t even realized she was still tense until he spoke. After a moment, she let herself relax into the hold.

The desire for physical contact didn’t stop with Bruce and Selina. Dick took the next hug, ruffling Neal’s hair over his protests before Barbara got the chance to hug the twins. Tim ruffled Neal’s hair again and Damian first patted Lucy on the shoulder before she pulled him for a hug.

“Lucy!” he protested.

She smiled. “Hush, little brother.” She kissed his forehead.

He grumbled, but smiled. “Nice work with those guards by the way.”

“Thanks, Damian.”

“Peter and Elizabeth are upstairs,” Bruce said after a moment. “Worried.”

Neal nodded. “I’ll go see them.”

“Medical care first,” Bruce said. He smiled. “At least you didn’t break any bones.”

“Not any of ours anyway,” Lucy replied.

Bruce shook his head. These kids would be the death of him.


	9. Finalies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to our close. I had a bit of trouble on ending this but I think I'm happy with it. Thanks for all of yours comments and kudos. It's really helped with the whole "getting it finished" part of this. 
> 
> Cheers!

“Peter!” Neal grinned. “You were worried.”

“Anytime you disappear, I worry,” Peter replied. “Are you okay?”

“I am.”

Peter took a moment to verify that with his own eyes before hugging his wayward friend. “Stop doing that to me, okay kid?”

“I’ll try,” Neal promised.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Bruce said softly.

Elizabeth took that as her cue to tug Neal into her own arms. “Oh, sweetie. Where’s your sister?”

“Showering,” Neal replied. “Which I need to do as well I think.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “A bit, yes.”

“And there is more than one shower in this house,” Bruce said. “Go shower. Sleep. You can catch up in the morning.”

Neal opened his mouth to protest.

“Not a suggestion.” His tone was gentle.

Neal huffed. “Fine.”

Bruce hid a smile as Neal headed off.

“He’s a tough kid,” Peter said. “You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Bruce shook his head. “I know all of this happened fast, and it didn’t happen the way I would have wanted it to but—I’m glad it did. There’s no such thing as too many kids.” He smiled. “Even if they are a handful.”

“He is good though, they both are.” Peter sighed. “Trouble, but good.”

“I just—I can’t help but wonder what they’ll decide. If they’ll stay.” Bruce shook his head. “I want them to stay.”

“Just don’t forget to tell them that,” Peter said.

“I won’t.”

***

Neal woke up to his sister’s voice and sat up to find her curled up on the bed next to him. She was talking in her sleep. He smiled, smoothing her hair from her face. “It’s okay, sunshine.”

She made a soft sound, eyes fluttering open. “Hey.”

“Didn’t want to sleep alone?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Me neither,” he admitted. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, chin resting on her shoulder. “It was a long night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “A very long night.”

Neal checked the time. “I bet there’s breakfast…or lunch, given the hour.”

“I am hungry,” Lucy said. “You know…we’re going to have tell them we’ve made a decision.”

“How do you want to do it?”

“It’s like tearing off a Band-Aid, Neal. The faster the better.” She pulled back. “Just less painful—I think.”

“Okay. Let’s get dressed.” Neal smiled. “I don’t want to do this in my PJ’s.”

***

They discovered lunch was more of a buffet affair when they got downstairs. Everyone was milling around, talking and eating. Neal’s eyes narrowed when he spotted a familiar bald head.

“Mozzie?”

“Neal!” The small con set his plate aside. “I am so glad to see you in one piece my friend.” He gave the young man a quick hug. “And of course, the Lady Lucy, you look resplendent.”

“Thank you, Mozzie.”

“That reminds me, mon frère, I have something you asked for.” Mozzie held up a finger in excitement and headed back to the chair he had claimed and pulled a document tube from underneath it. “As requested, item 495B.”

“Thanks Mozzie.” Neal grinned. “I appreciate it.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“Uh…a present for Bruce,” Neal replied gracefully.

“For me?” Bruce wandered over, a glass of orange juice in his hand. He held it out to Neal. “Trade you.”

Neal took the juice and handed over the tube.

“Drink the juice,” Bruce prompted before popping the top off and pulling the roll free and glancing at it. “Masked Dancers.”

Neal took a gulp of juice.

“It’s nice to have it back,” Bruce continued. “Though the one you did is very good.”

Neal paled considerably. “Wha?”

Bruce gave him a significant look. “Please. I noticed the switch the next day, looked at the footage and picked you out. I didn’t know who you were at the time but—you didn’t hurt anyone and like I said, it was very good piece of work. I am happy to have the original back though.”

Neal continued to drink his juice.

Bruce clapped him on the shoulder. “In the future though, if you steal something from me, you are grounded.”

Neal’s ears turn pink as he flushed. “Right.”

Lucy snickered.

“Speaking of the future,” Selina drawled. “Have you two thought of your future?”

Neal glanced at his sister. She nodded slightly.

“We have,” Neal said.

“This is our family now.” Lucy looked at her parents. “We’re staying.”

Selina smiled. “Really? That’s what you both want?”

“Yes,” Neal said. “That’s what we both want, Mom.” He smiled.

She hugged Lucy and then Neal. “I—I love you two, so much.”

The twins’ replies were staggered by seconds, “I love you too.”  
Bruce’s expression was soft as his youngest son, overhearing the news, practically threw himself at Lucy.

“You are staying, Lucy?”

“I’m staying, Damian.” She grinned. “After all, who else is going to teach me ten ways of killing a man with a spoon?”

He grinned back.

Bruce sighed.

Which was the perfect cue for the doorbell to ring. Alfred answered the door, though the entire gathering had an ear for information as to the person’s identity. The voice that answered Alfred was soft, feminine. Neal blinked and headed into the foyer as Alfred led the young woman inside.

“Sara?”

“Neal!” Sara smiled. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“You were worried.” Neal smiled.

She marched up to him and smacked him on the arm. “Of course I was worried. I saw the news. You were kidnapped. Is Lucy okay?”

“I am,” Lucy leaned against the wall. “I don’t suppose this means you still want to date my idiot brother?”

“Well…I suppose I just have a thing for tall handsome boys with dubious morals.” Sara kissed him. “I caught him and I’m not letting him go. Not this time.”

“What is it with my boys and redheads?” Bruce muttered.

“Sara Ellis, I want you to meet my parents.” Neal smirked. “How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I did fly all the way here.”

“It’s a half-hour flight.” Neal raised his eyebrows.

“It was a long half hour.” She kissed him again. “Now introduce me to your family.”

“As you wish.”

***

_A few months later_

Things were somewhat bumpy as Neal and Lucy settled into their new lives. Neal “borrowed” a few cars from Bruce’s garage. Lucy made questionable friends. It was only a short matter of time before the twins became a partial fixture in the Gotham club scene. More Lucy than Neal, who was tentatively exploring positions with Sterling Bosch and the Gotham Museum of Art.

It was a night when the twins and Sara were out together with Tim and Stephanie at _Club D’Eville_. It was a bit of a dive but the music was good. Lucy watched the other couples with a small amount of jealousy. She was happy for her brothers but…it had been a while.

Sara and Neal looked good together.

Lucy sat at the bar, nursing a gin martini for a few minutes watching them dance before she slid out of her chair to hit the ladies’ room. She automatically tugged at the hem of her dress. Stephanie had picked it out, and it wasn’t precisely to Lucy’s general standards. The sapphire blue material did bring out her eyes, yes, but it was a few inches shorter than Lucy was personally comfortable with. Mostly because it made fighting harder. She’d worn shorts underneath—just in case—but still.

Lucy wound her way through the dancers to the hall at the back of the club where the bathrooms were. She had a hand on the door when someone called out to her.

“Lucy.”

She turned toward the familiar voice, brow furrowing. “Cooper.”

“You got me fired, you little bitch,” he snarled.

“That was the idea. You’re lucky, my family wanted to break your legs. But apparently justice is supposed rule over revenge.” She shrugged. “Did you want something or are you here to reminisce?”

“You’re all alone here, Lola. I’m going to finish what I started two years ago in that hotel room.”

Lucy exhaled. “You can try.” She didn’t bother waiting for him to attack. She slipped out of her heels and rushed him. What she’d learned in Quantico had been extended and diversified by training with Damian, Dick and Barbara—occasionally Bruce. She just wasn’t that much of a masochist. The more important thing being, that she wasn’t the girl Cooper knew. She hadn’t been that girl since she walked out of the FBI building with Selina.

She hadn’t been that girl since Falstaff had her kidnapped.

She’d even gone on patrol a couple times with the Bats. Highly controlled, easy patrols, but still. Bruce was a bit paranoid. Over-protective some might say. Not Lucy though, she preferred not cleaning the Bat-Cave with a toothbrush.

Which Neal found out the hard way when he “borrowed” the Lambo.

Lucy threw the first punch, a strong believer in attacking first.

Cooper staggered back into the emergency exit, glaring back at her.

“What? You think I’ve spent our time apart on nothing?” Lucy smiled.

“I think that once a spoiled brat, always a spoiled brat.” He spat blood. “I think it doesn’t matter what you’ve learned, I’m still going to come out on top.”

“We’ll see.”

He rushed forward, grabbing her arm and shoving her out the door with a snarl. She staggered momentarily before kicking him in the stomach. Barefoot was still better than heels, even in a damp alley. She contemplated tetanus for a brief moment before Cooper attacked again. She caught his swing on her forearm and jabbing him in the neck.

He grunted in pain.

Lucy flashed a smile and headed for another blow, but winced when she stepped on something sharp.

Which Cooper took advantage of, sweeping low to knock her on her back with a leer.

Lucy arched her back to jump back onto her feet, only to pause and smile. “Ooh…you’re in trouble.”

He frowned—and then collapsed as a baseball bat was brought down swiftly onto his shoulder. Cooper’s collapse was probably due to the extreme pain of his now broken clavicle. Lucy’s defender kicked Cooper away and stepped over him, a smile stretched on his face. Lucy blinked at the man who looked like a scruffier version of Dick. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, sharp eyes blue and a bit manic. He wore a black leather jacket over a red hoodie and jeans.

“Well, he’s an asshole.” The man held a hand out to her.

Lucy let him help her up. “I’m Lucy—Wayne. Thanks for the assist.”

“I know.” He smiled. “Jason Todd.”

She blinked. “Jason Todd?”

“The rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

“It’s not that. Bruce told me what happened to you—I just never thought I’d meet you.” She smiled. “You look good for a dead man.”

“Thanks.”

“Lucy, are you okay?” Neal stood at the emergency exit, eyes a bit wide. “Is that Cooper?”

“It is.” Lucy looked at her brother. “This is Jason.”

Jason waved. “Hi.”

“Jason?” Dick slipped out from behind Neal.

“Hi, Dick.” Jason waved again. “Good to see you.”

“Oh, it’s Agent Cooper.” Dick glanced back at his brother. “You break his ribs too?”

“Nah. I think he gets the message.” Jason leaned down over the man, now awake and moaning. “If you touch my baby sister again…I’ll break both your legs.” Jason’s smile was practically feral. “Okay?” He straightened and kicked the man again. “Let’s get drinks. I feel like celebrating.”

“You seem…cheerful,” Dick said. “Oddly cheerful.”

“I was recently reminded that there are things more important than revenge. Mostly revenge for other people, but still.” Jason smiled. “Come on, Lucy, I’ll buy you vodka.”

“Well, you have just made great strides in becoming my favorite brother.”

“Hey!”

She ignored Dick and Neal’s protests.

“Do you have a motorcycle?” she asked, following Jason into the club.

“I do.”

“Fantastic.”

***

The semi-regular presence of Jason Todd at Wayne Manor was met with some trepidation on Tim’s part, but when the marginally homicidal young man refrained from attacking it became apparent that Jason was making definite strides toward healing old wounds.

Permanent accommodations for the twins had been made on the second floor, a room converted into an art studio in addition to the two bedrooms that had been fitted more to the twins’ individual tastes. Neal didn’t find it particularly difficult to fit into the social realities of his new position, but the other side of his family was another matter. He wasn’t sure that was the life for him. Lucy, on the other hand seemed to be diving in head first.

“How’d you get that bruise?” Neal asked, watching his sister across the breakfast table.

She shrugged, munching on cereal.

“Did you go out with Jason last night?” he continued.

She shrugged again.

“Bruce is gonna kill you…” Neal sipped on his coffee.

“Why would I do that?” Bruce asked, padding into the dining room with his morning paper. “By the way, your mother is off to Paris for a couple weeks.”

Neal nodded in acknowledgement.

Bruce glanced at Lucy. “How’d you get that bruise?”

She looked up at him. “Just training, _Dad_.” The smile, the widened eyes—the Dad—were applied with disarming effect.

“Stop going out with Jason by yourself, Lucy.” Bruce settled into a chair. “I don’t need the two most reckless kids together without supervision.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She batted her eyelashes.

“That’s one,” Bruce replied.

“Excuse me?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Neal can tell you what happens when I get to three.”

She glanced at her brother who was giving her a sharp look. “You don’t want him to get to three.”

“Fine, we’ll take someone else with us in the future.” She stuffed more cereal in her mouth.

“Good choice.”

***

_Six Months Later_

It was Neal and Lucy’s twenty-third birthday, but Neal wasn’t pacing back and forth because he was concerned about the party currently going on downstairs. He was concerned with the box burning a hole in his pocket and the red-haired woman laughing downstairs with El. He took a deep breath.

“It’s going to okay,” Lucy reassured him. “She loves you.”

Neal nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He headed down the stairs, Lucy at his heels.

Neal smiled at his family, winding over to Sara. “Hey there.”

“Neal, where did you sneak off to?”

“I had to get something. Can I talk to you for a second? On the balcony?”

“Sure.” Sara smiled, taking his hand.

Lucy grinned, watching surreptitiously as Neal led Sara away.

“Is he?” El asked.

Lucy nodded. “Any second now.”

The moon was out when Neal led Sara outside, the light catching her hair.

“Well this is romantic,” Sara said. “A bit cold.”

“Yeah…” He exhaled sharply and dropped down on one knee. “I wanted some privacy and I thought it seemed more like us.” He pulled the box free from his pocket. “Sara Christine Ellis, I know we’ve been through some really weird things. And you’ve stuck by me. You’re an amazing woman and I want to spend every minute of my life being with you. You make me honest.” He popped open the box to reveal a ring. Not the McNally solitaire he’d picked for Kate. He wouldn’t give Sara something he got for Kate.

The marquise cut canary diamond glittered in a delicate platinum filigree.

“Will you marry me?”

Sara’s breath hitched, lips parting. “Oh—Neal.” She licked her lips. “Yes. I will marry you.”

He slipped the ring out of the box and onto her finger, standing up to give her a kiss.

Applause erupted from the balcony doors.

Neal flushed to see his whole family standing there. All of them, from blood to the ones he chose. And now—now he got to add one more person to his family.

Selina wrapped an arm around Lucy and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, kitten, we’ll find you someone next.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You think it’ll be a spring wedding?” Barbara asked.

Bruce shrugged. “I think they’ll figure it out.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Sara asked.

Bruce shrugged. “Come on, there’s champagne.”

“Well, I can’t say no to champagne,” Sara replied. “Dad.”

Bruce smiled.

***

_Another Vigilante Joins the Caped Crusader!_

“The newspaper sure is getting a kick out of you, sis,” Dick said. “How do you feel about that?”

“I am eclipsed only by my brother’s upcoming nuptials,” Lucy replied. “The picture’s not bad. Blurry.”

“Well, you don’t want them to get a clear photo, Lucy,” Tim said.

“I know. It’s vanity.” She set the paper aside. “I’m surprised they didn’t think I was Barbara.”

“Different hair color,” Barbara said sagely. “My suit looks good on you though.”

Lucy blushed. “Just until you get off maternity leave, Babs.”

“Uh huh.” Barbara laid a hand on her stomach, a soft smile lighting on her lips. “You’ll get addicted, I know it. I hear you had a _run in_ with Arsenal.”

Lucy shrugged. “I think I need someone a bit more…normal. Maybe a librarian. Someone quiet.”

Barbara laughed. “Good luck with that.”

***

Selina never really considered she would find herself watching her son get married, sitting with said son’s father, with her daughter standing in a tasteful blue bridesmaid dress making eyes at a supposedly honorable retrieval expert Neal had invited to be his fourth groom’s man. Mozzie was somewhat irritated to be his second groomsman, and Peter stood up as his best man. Dick rounded out the party.

“Are you happy, Selina?” Bruce asked softly.

“Immensely.” She kissed his cheek. “Did you ever think this would be how all of this turned out?”

“I try not to guess how my children are going to act.” He sighed. “He still calls me Bruce, you know?”

“I know. Did you know Lucy was contacted by the JLA again?”

“I’m not surprised. She’s an impressive girl.”

“You think she’ll join?”

“I think so.”

Selina sighed. “At least Neal is safe in his job.”

“Art security consultation—on the surface that’s pretty safe. If that was all he was doing.” Bruce gave her a look. “I know he’s been freelancing. Catwoman was photographed with a partner in Monaco.”

She smiled. “What can I say, he’s very good.”

“Uh huh.”

“—and do you, Neal Thomas Wayne, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of New Jersey, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows at the muscular groomsman Neal had introduced as Quinn. He winked back at her.

“That should be interesting,” Selina said.

“She’s a foot taller than him,” Bruce said.

“I think she likes that.” Selina smirked.

Bruce sighed. “Great.”

“Don’t worry, she can handle herself.”

“I was more worried about him.”

***

As the evening wound down, Sara and Neal began making the rounds to say goodbye before they headed off to their Parisian honeymoon. Peter got a bit choked up. Mozzie got a bit more choked up. Bruce watched his clever boy with one eye and his daughter with the other.

Lucy seemed to have Quinn wrapped around her finger.

He watched Neal kiss Sara on the cheek, sending her ahead to the door before walking over to Bruce.

“You say goodbye to everyone?”

“Yeah.” Neal sighed. “I’m coming back you know. After the honeymoon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Neal smiled. “That’s a promise—Dad.”

Bruce swallowed. “Have a good time, son. Don’t steal anything.”

Neal grinned. “Don’t worry, the curator of the Louvre and I have an understanding.”

“Of course you do.”

Neal made a considering face and then hugged Bruce tight. “Thank you. For everything.” He bit his lip. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too,” Bruce managed. “Don’t keep your wife waiting.”

Neal pulled back. “Keep an eye on Lucy for me, will you?”

“It’s a promise. See you in two weeks.”

“Oh, and don’t let Mozzie anywhere near the study. That is a can of worms you do not want him opening.”

“I can try.”

“Neal! The car is here,” Sara called.

“Coming!” He gave Bruce one last smile, and hurried to join his wife.

Peter wrapped around El’s shoulders and watched Neal climb into the car. “I think the kid’s going to be okay.”

“He made good choices,” El said. “And when he gets back we can give him our news.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Eh?”

“I think we’ll manage to surprise him.” Peter kissed his wife. “For once.”

“You think he’ll send postcards?” El asked.

“Maybe. Let’s just hope the only famous artwork he picks up while he’s there is on a postcard.”

“Sara’s with him.” El smiled. “He’ll be fine.”

Peter nodded. “Maybe I’ll keep an eye on the Parisian newspapers, just in case.”

El rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mr. Suit. I want more cake.”

He smiled. “Sure thing, hon.”

***

Together, in a hotel room overlooking the Eiffel Tower, Neal and Sara laid in each other’s arms, content.

“So how far along do you think Elizabeth is?” Neal asked.

“A few months. But you have to be nice and pretend you’re surprised,” Sara replied.

“Okay.”

She snuggled closer to him. “Did you ever think you’d end up here?”

“I hoped.” He kissed her cheek. “But when I hoped for Paris I saw a different path to getting there than the one we took.”

“Is that so bad?”

He shook his head. “No. This…this was the right choice.”

“Mmm.” Sara closed her eyes. “Yes, yes it was.”


End file.
